


Pain Splattered Teardrops On My Shirt

by noos



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Character Death, F/M, Gen, I don't know what I'm doing, Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-05
Updated: 2014-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-31 13:29:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 91,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1032239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noos/pseuds/noos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He doesn't know what he's doing there. He doesn't even know how he knows where her house is, but he does. His whole life has been turned upside down, or so he's been told. He doesn't actually remember much, so he can't confirm or deny those allegations, but ever since he woke up in that hospital bed, he feels like a fish out of water more often than not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first foray into tw fanfiction. I actually wasn't planning on writing it, but I did a tumblr set for this au and I had someone asking me if there was a fic to accompany it, and so here it is. 
> 
> A warning though, it might be full of errors since I wrote the dialog while at work, and managed to develop everything at 1am, and got around to posting the fic at 4am, so let's just say my mind wasn't in top shape when I worked on it. Also, I know my beta has a lot on her plate right now, and I wanted to post the fic really fast, so I didn't send it to her for reviewing, I just went ahead and posted the thing. Just please, if you notice any mistakes, point them out and I'll love you forever.
> 
> One more thing, I don't pretend to know anything about memory loss or how it occurs, but for the sake of fiction, I took some liberties here, so you will notice the memory loss might be slightly selective. 
> 
> Title from Ed Sheeran's "Give Me Love". Unbeta'ed. Hope you enjoy it!
> 
> (if you're interested, you can check out the set here http://scottmartinski.tumblr.com/post/65841760104/au-after-the-accident-stiles-loses-his-memory)

He doesn't know what he's doing there. He doesn't even know how he knows where her house is, but he does. His whole life has been turned upside down, or so he's been told. He doesn't actually remember much, so he can't confirm or deny those allegations, but ever since he woke up in that hospital bed, he feels like a fish out of water more often than not.

The first week was the worst. He'd woken up disoriented and confused, a girl by his side. She'd been asleep, her head resting on the side of his bed by his thigh, her disheveled red hair - he's not sure it can qualify as red, but it's also not blonde, somewhere between the two, and he's still not sure what that color is called - tickling him slightly, her hands holding on to his like dear life. He remembers her waking up as soon as she'd felt him stir, shooting up like she'd never been asleep, her green eyes wide and disbelieving as she repeated his name over and over again like he was the most amazing sight in the world. He also remembers her face crumpling when she'd realized he didn't know who she was. He remembers feeling his heart squeeze a little at the hurt that seemed to suddenly consume this stranger, her red-rimmed eyes locking onto his one last time before she'd suddenly ran away from his room.

Not two minutes after she'd left, his father had barged into his room, and relief flooded Stiles like a tidal wave. His dad hugged him so tight, Stiles almost couldn't breathe, but he didn't care. His mind felt cluttered and his head was throbbing, and he'd missed his dad. He looked older, but he was familiar and safe, and Stiles felt like a little kid again.

His dad showing up proved to be the only beacon of light in his world of darkness. The beautiful redhead - Lydia, he'd later come to know, and her hair is not exactly red - didn't come back that first week, and Stiles found himself strangely worried about her. It didn't make any sense, but alot of things didn't make sense either.

More people kept stopping by to see him, only to leave looking shattered knowing he couldn't remember them. He couldn't handle seeing so many strangers looking so sad because of something he couldn't control. So, he eventually broke down and asked his dad not to let any more people in to see him, especially after the tan boy with the sad look on his face - Scott, his father told him - had come to see him for the fifth time, and left looking so desperate, Stiles almost wanted to punch himself in the face for not knowing who this boy was.

It wasn't until he was allowed to go home that he'd found himself thinking about these strangers more and more, missing them all. He couldn't explain this connection he felt to them, but he knew it was there. So he'd asked the only person he could about it, his dad.

It took some time for his dad to decide he was ready for it, that he was truly ready to learn about his past, but eventually he'd told him all about the world they lived in, all about werewolves and kanimas and wolfsbane, all about banshees and hunters and betas, and all about the werewolf pack he was part of, a pack that was strangely enough made up of more humans than werewolves. He took comfort in the fact that his dad seemed even more confused than he was.

He knew his dad kept in touch with his friends - strangers, how could he ever think of them as friends when he didn't even know them - so Stiles told him they could start visiting again if they wanted.

And they did. He didn't expect them to, but they did. They came all together, parental units in tow, something he couldn't exactly understand seeing as they weren't kids who needed adult supervision anymore. Lydia avoided his eyes like the plague, but on the rare occasions their eyes did meet, her green ones would water slightly and it felt like he was being punched in the gut every damn time. Scott sat right next to her, and the way their arms brushed, Lydia's fingers clutching at his sleeve every few minutes, Stiles knew they were heeding strength from one another. The brunette, Allison, and the curly haired kid, Isaac, sat on the other couch, both looking worse for wear. Their parents had vanished into the kitchen along with his dad and another man with darker skin and surprisingly clear eyes. Derek.

They barely talked, and the silence was so suffocating, Stiles had to leave the room. They left soon after, and Stiles felt a wave of sadness and relief wash over him at the same time.

He started going through stuff in his room after that, hoping to trigger some memory or another, but nothing ever came. He found some photos, most of him and Scott, some of him and Lydia, and some of the entire pack. The word still sounded weird even in his head. He'd left the photos by his bedside table, taking the time to look at them every night, hoping for some memory to creep into his consciousness. There was one picture in particular that he wanted to remember so badly; he recognized his living room, so he knew the picture was taken at his house. Allison was sitting on the couch, sandwiched between Scott and Derek. She was kissing Derek's cheek, and he looked so put out to be there it was almost comical. On the other side, Scott was holding her hand, his head thrown back in laughter. Sitting on the floor in front of them was Lydia right next to Stiles, holding his hand and looking up at him with the biggest smile on her face as he chewed on a mouthful of what he could only assume was popcorn. Isaac was nowhere to be seen, so Stiles assumed he'd taken the picture. No matter how much he stared at the figures though, wishing he could remember, nothing happened.

The night they all came over to his house for the first time was easily the most uncomfortable in his life. Which is why Stiles couldn't understand what he was doing right now, standing in front of Lydia's bedroom door. The last time they were together, they were barely able to look each other in the eye, let alone have a conversation.

Before he can think it through one more time, he knocks on her door.

"I'm decent," her muffled voice comes yelling back, and it's enough to send a chill up his spine. He's frozen and can't seem to move. "Mom?" He hears her call again when he doesn't answer. "You can come in," she tries again.

Stiles finally snaps out of it, and starts to move backwards, turning to go, but just as he takes the first step, he hears the door swing open and Lydia gasp. He doesn't realize he's turned again until he sees the shocked look on her face, her eyes wide and her lips quivering slightly. They stare at each other for a few seconds, and Stiles takes a moment to truly look at her. She looks tired, bags under her eyes, her hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun. She's wearing an oversized red hoodie that looks so strangely familiar, he can swear it's his, with black cotton leggings. Her feet are bare, and Stiles thinks no girl can look more beautiful than Lydia in that moment.

"Hi," she manages to get out, snapping him once again back to reality.

"Hi," he replies, awkwardly waving her way. He cringes slightly, and she has to lower her head to hide the small smile that takes over her features. She looks back up, and they stare at each other for a few more seconds before he finds his voice again. "Sorry, um, your mom let me in." She nods and before she can speak, he's talking again. "At least, I think it was your mom, since, you know, memory loss and all. But she seemed to know me and mentioned something about how happy she was to see me back here, so..." He scratches the back of his head, suddenly very interested in the pattern on her door.

"Oh, yeah, of course," she rambles, and Stiles is slightly relieved to see she's just as nervous as he feels. "I mean, the last few months before your accident we spent all our time at eachother's places, nights included." She winces at her words, because Christ, she just mentioned his accident and she's talking about them sleeping together when he doesn't even know her, what is wrong with her, but Stiles gives her an easy smile and she feels some of the tension leave her shoulders.

"We did?" Stiles asks, because he can't not ask, because he's Stiles, and he wants to remember, and this beautiful girl just mentioned them sleeping in the same place, possibly in the same room, and he'd be an idiot not to ask.

Lydia feels a blush creeping up her neck. "Um, yeah, well, us and the rest of the pack. Sometimes we'd sleep over here, sometimes at your place, and then other times at Scott's or the Argents'. Never at Derek's though, seeing as the man doesn't own any furniture." She's rambling again and she's never felt so nervous, and it's Stiles' turn to hide the smile that's threatening to take over his face.

"Oh," he manages to choke out, and seriously Stilinski, that's the best you can come up with?

"Yeah," Lydia continues and thank god for that. "It was mostly for protection, especially with other packs dropping by every so often, you know, safety in numbers and all." She rolls her eyes at that last part, and Stiles can't help notice how cute she looks.

"And our parents were okay with that?" He says before he can do anything stupid like tell her.

"Oh, yeah," she starts. "Well, my mom's always been oblivious to the world, and Mr. Argent is a hunter so he's always known about the pack. Scott's mom found out eventually and seeing as she agreed to harbor in another underage werewolf, it was safe to assume she was okay with it. Your dad was the last to find out, mostly because you wanted to protect him from everything, but eventually you realized he had to know. Although, it did take him some time to accept it, but he seems okay with it now, I think. Anyway, the point is, they understand pack dynamics and sleepovers are pack dynamic, so they're fine with it." Lydia rolls her eyes again, and it almost looks painfully familiar. "Sorry, um, do you want to come in?" She says after a minute. He's taken aback by the shift in conversation, although he shouldn't be, especially that this is why he came here in the first place.

"Thanks," he mutters, following her into her room.

"Make yourself at home," she says, closing the door behind him, then going to stand awkwardly in the middle of the room, and Stiles can tell she won't make herself comfortable until he's comfortable.

He looks at the bed and is tempted to just plop down on it, but seeing as this is his first time here, or at least the first time he can remember, he opts for her desk chair instead. He flips it, though, so the back is now the front, and straddles the chair, resting his elbows on the backrest.

Lydia moves to stand against her dresser, watching Stiles as he takes in her room.

"I like this," he says, pointing at a stuffed grey wolf on her bed, mostly because he can't stand the silence anymore.

Lydia's eyes widen and water just slightly, but she takes a steadying breath to calm herself and Stiles wants to punch himself in the face.

"Are you okay?" He asks, an overwhelming worry for this girl taking over him once again.

"Sorry, yeah, I'm fine," she mumbles, meeting his eye for just a second before turning to look anywhere else.

"I know I don't remember you and all, but unless your emotions work a different way, I'm pretty sure that almost crying qualifies as you not being okay." He doesn't mean to push, but he can't help it.

"Sorry, I'm okay, I promise," she says, and Stiles has the urge to tell her to stop apologizing so much, but he can feel her about to say more so he keeps quiet instead. "It's just that this is always where you used to sit when you first started coming by my place," she smiles sadly.

"When I first started coming by?" Stiles asks trying to ignore that same sadness overtaking him.

"Yeah, well, once you got used to the room and the house, you plopped down on my bed every chance you got," She says, her smile growing and her eyes glowing like she was remembering something specific, and Stiles feels almost jealous.

"Charming," he laughs, self-deprecating as ever.

She laughs louder this time, and Stiles' own grin widens, proud he's the reason behind it.

"You were," Lydia insists. "Also, that wolf is something that you got me. Well, you and Scott. To keep me safe, that's what you told me." Stiles can feel another memory assaulting her, but this time he smiles, too.

They stay quiet for a few seconds because neither knows what to say, and things start to feel awkward again.

"So, did yo-"

"Can you help me remember you guys?" Stiles says suddenly, interrupting Lydia.

"What?" She asks, a dumb look on her face.

"I was- um, sorry, you do-" Stiles stutters for a moment before he finally gathers the courage to voice what he's thinking. "You can totally say no, but I like how you talk to me about stuff, about how it used to be. Somehow it feels like maybe I can make myself believe I remember it. So can you help me remember more?" He gets out all in one breathe, afraid if he'd stop for any reason, he might not be able to continue.

Lydia opens and closes her mouth like a fish, not sure she heard right. "Yeah, um, totally, sure," she says before he can change his mind. He nods, and there's the awkward silence again.

"So, um, whenever you're free, just, I'm assuming you have my number, so call or text or whatever if you have time," Stiles rambles getting up to leave.

"Oh."

"What?" He stops and turns around to look at her.

"Well, I was thinking, maybe I could start right now, if you're free," She gets out, almost shy.

"Oh."

"What?" She asks and she wants to laugh because she'll be damned if this isn't the most awkward conversation in the history of conversations.

"That would be great. I actually wanted it that way, but I was worried you wouldn't be up for it," he gets out, a hopeful look on his face.

"Of course I'm up for it," she replies all too quickly, and she almost wants to bang her head against the wall because she's scared her eagerness will scare him away.

Stiles slowly walks back into the room. He looks at the desk chair but then makes his way towards her bed and sits on the edge.

Lydia can barely hide the grin on her face. "You can relax, you know," she says feeling herself relax as well at this gesture, knowing the full weight of what Stiles just did.

He's telling her he's ready, and that he truly wants to remember her. Her wants to remember them all, she has to remind herself, because this is not just about her, but she feels a secret thrill knowing that Stiles chose to come to her and no one else.

He smiles and pulls himself up on the mattress until his back bumps against the headboard. "Thanks."

"So," she starts, and he can feel the excitement bubbling in her voice. "First things first, Scott. Pack leader, werewolf extraordinaire, he's like a puppy you wanna hug every chance you get. Except that sometimes he grows fangs and stuff, but whatever. He's also your best friend." She stops, giving him a second to process.

"Yeah?" he asks, remembering the million pictures he found of the two of them, some as far back as when they were five or six. He remembers them smiling or laughing in almost every picture and it's not hard to believe that this boy is his best friend.

"Yeah. Scott's been your best friend probably since before you were even born. You'd die before you let anything happen to him." Lydia frowns a little, and Stiles can feel a memory clouding her vision, something more painful than the ones before. "You actually did nearly die, more than once, to save him." That explains the look. "He'd return the favor any chance he gets. I don't think I've gone a day I haven't seen you two together. Sometimes I'm not even sure you're two different entities." The bubbliness is back in her voice, and there's a quiet fondness there, as well.

"That sounds kinda weird," Stiles says, smiling and furrowing his brow all at once.

"You would think!" Lydia smiles wider. "But everyone's accepted the fact that you two come as a package deal. You still give eachother space for important things like showers and girl time and oth-"

"Girl time?" Stiles interrupts, eyes widening. "Wait, I had a girlfriend?"

"Um, no, not exactly," Lydia says, and Stiles thinks he imagines the blush on her face. "Scott though, him and Allison are in this weird on/off thing and sometimes Isaac is involved and sometimes not and now I'm not even sure if it's a threesome or a triangle anymore," she rambles and a disgusted look crosses her features.

"Well, who wouldn't wanna be around that," Stiles laughs.

Lydia chuckles and he grins wider.

"This is actually why you and I were practically joined at the hip the last few months," Lydia continues, a bit awkwardly. "I mean there's always the option to hang out with Derek, but in time you'll learn that everything's a better option than hanging out with Derek."

"Wait, um, did- do we not like Derek?" Stiles asks and he stops for a second to wonder when the I became a We.

"Oh no, no hate there at all, he's pack after all," Lydia states matter-of-factly. "Derek's just difficult. He's been through hell and back, so he's earned it. I mean his last girlfriend turned out to be a psycho vindictive human-sacrificing bitch." This time, it's anger on Lydia's face as she touches her neck lightly, and Stiles notices for the first time the faint pink scar. A sudden anger overtakes him, but before he can think about it, Lydia's talking again. "He's just not the easiest guy to be around. But no matter how much he pretends not to, Derek cares about us. Alot."

"And he lives alone?" Is all Stiles manages to get out to stop himself from dwelling on the anger.

"Now, yes. For a while there, his sister Cora - a werewolf, too, you like her - lived with him." Stiles can swear he feels a hint of jealousy in Lydia's tone. "But she's skipped town since. There was also Peter, the original alpha, but Derek killed him and became the alpha. Before being killed, though, Peter tried to turn me and failed. He did however develop a connection between me and him that allowed him to manipulate me to bring him back from the dead, and I did, only he came back weaker and decided to become a good guy for a while. But now he's back to his old ways, so he's evil again," Lydia stops to take a deep breath.

"I'm reconsidering that whole getting my memory back thing, to be honest," Stiles quips and Lydia laughs. He can't explain the pride he feels every time he makes her laugh.

"I can stop if it's too much for you to ta-"

"I'm fine, I'm kidding, I'm actually quite enjoying this," he interrupts before she can get any ideas. "My life feels like a supernatural television series." Lydia laughs again, and Stiles grins back, their eyes meeting again. She looks so pretty when she laughs. "So what about the rest?"

"Well, aside from being two thirds of a freaky hybrid ménage-a-trois, Allison and Isaac are pack, too. They protect us in their own ways."

"Cool. And do we get along with them?" Again with the We.

"Oh yeah," Lydia smiles. "Along with being an amazing huntress, Allison's my best friend and one of yours, too," she continues, nodding his way. "And seeing as Isaac lives with Scott, you two have made your peace and get along quite well, actually."

"And Isaac's a werewolf?" Stiles tries to picture the curly haired boy turning into some wild beast. Nope. Not possible.

"Yes, he is. Derek turned him, but then he switched loyalties and became a member of Scott's pack."

"Wait, they can do that?" Stiles raises his eyebrows.

"We were just as surprised then as you are now. But apparently they can."

"Nice."

"Yeah."

Silence settles again as Stiles contemplates his next question. "And, um, what about you?" he asks because he can't hold it in anymore.

"Me?" Lydia's suddenly more uncomfortable than she's ever been.

"Yeah, um. I, um, I mean, were we close?" Stiles stutters out.

"We, um, sort of." Stiles' pleased to hear she sounds just as nervous. "Well, you decided I was the one for you in third grade," Lydia gets out before she can stop herself and her cheeks turn into an unnaturally red color.

"I did?" He isn't really sure he's surprised, even though he cannot actually remember it, and this in itself confuses him more than anything else.

"You did," she replies before she can think it through, and suddenly she's hit with the memory of another time they used those exact same words, and she almost wants to cry.

_When I kissed you, you held you breath._

"And you? Did you feel the same?" Stiles asks, snapping Lydia out of it. She considers lying for a second. But this is her chance at a clean slate. No more lying. No more denying how she really feels.

"I did," she lets out truthfully. "It just took me a little longer to realize it."

Stiles knew it was coming. He saw it in her eyes the day he woke up at the hospital. He saw it again that day she came over to his house. He saw it in all those pictures he looked at for nights in a row. But somehow hearing her say it makes it all the more real, and he realizes he's relieved, because this is exactly what he wanted to hear from her. That this stranger for whom he cares so much without understanding it, cares for him too, in equal measures, and maybe even more.

They stare at each other for a few second before he finally clears his throat. "So, um, we were together?"

"Not exactly, no." Lydia looks nervous. "I never got around to telling you how I felt."

"Why not?"

"Because I never fully let myself accept it until you had your accident and I nearly lost you." She lowers her gaze, fighting tears and nearly choking on her last words. She shouldn't be telling him all this. He doesn't remember her, so she knows this must be so very uncomfortable for him, hearing a complete stranger confess her love for him, but she still can't bring herself to shut up. "Well, you don't remember anything anymore, so in some ways, I've already lost you." She looks back up at him, a sad look on her face, and Stiles fights off the urge to go to her. Silence settles for a few minutes, but this time, it's Lydia who breaks it. "I'm sorry, I'm making you uncomfortable."

"No, no, it's fine, I-" Stiles starts to say, but he's interrupted again.

"I just was never honest with you before, and I was so mean to you, and I was just a bitch most of the time," she says laughing humorlessly. "And I don't know, I don't expect anything, I just think if this has taught me anything, it's to always be honest, because everything can be taken away from you any second." Stiles is looking at Lydia and Lydia is looking anywhere other than at Stiles. "This has been sufficiently awkward, so I'm gonna quit while I'm ahead."

"Please don't," Stiles hears himself say before he can stop. "As awkward as this is, I don't remember who I am, so anything helps at this point. Besides, if what you're saying is true, then I've spent eight years in love with you, and if I want to get back to that, you have to keep talking to me."

Lydia feels the wind get knocked out of her. Did she just hear him right? 

"You want to get back to being in love with me?" Lydia asks, the disbelieving tone back in her voice. The look on her face is a mix of hope and so much love that Stiles feels his heart squeeze again. "But, you don't, you don't even know me," she stutters.

"I used to. And if I want to understand who I was, then I have to get my old feelings back. And if I spent eight years waiting for you, then you are a big part of those feelings." He can't really understand the sudden boldness that's taken him, but he's glad for it, and their eyes lock again.

"I, I don't know what to say."

"Wait." Stiles is hit with a thought and he prays to anyone who listens for it to be false. "I didn't eventually move on, did I?"

The sadness that washes over Lydia makes Stiles think he did, and he wants to punch himself again. Christ, how could this one girl affect him so much?

"Um. I don't know. Honestly, at one point I thought you did, or maybe convinced myself you did. You were always with Cora, and I don't know, you were never particularly affectionate, but you weren't chasing me around as much anymore." She just looks so sad and confused. "Scott says you didn't move on though, he says you just changed tactics and decided to give me space so I could figure out my feelings for you," she continues, a small smile finally gracing her features again.

"Well, you just said you did, so I must've been a smart guy." The relief that washes over him is like a tidal wave and he feels himself sink further into the mattress.

Lydia smiles.

"You were. So smart it was sometimes scary."

"Yeah well, seeing as you have a pile of big ass books with words like astrophysics and advanced calculus, I'd say you look pretty smart yourself." He points to her desk and her grin widens as she's assaulted by another memory.

_That was really smart._

"I am."

"Yeah, you look like the type of smart that could win a Nobel prize or something."

Lydia almost chokes, but she manages to straighten herself up, looking at him with eyes so wide, he's almost scared.

"What?" He asks, suddenly panicking.

"Nothing." Lydia's eyes regain their normal size, but she still looks like she's been hit on the head with a baseball bat. "It's just, we've had this conversation before."

"We did?"

"Yes. We were at a school dance, and you were trying to get me to dance with you. Back then I was a royal bitch to you." Lydia cringes at the memory.

"So you didn't dance with me." Stiles is inexplicably disappointed.

"Actually, I did."

And now he is inexplicably happy.

"Yeah." Lydia insists. Their eyes meet for a few more minutes, and this time it's less stuffy and more comfortable than before, until Stiles suddenly straightens up.

"So, I'm- I should probably get going. I wouldn't want to worry my dad," he says getting up.

"Yeah, yeah, definitely," Lydia says, following suit and walking him outside her room. She doesn't want him to go. But if she tells him now, she'll probably only get him to run faster.

"So, um, thanks for this, I hope we can do it again." He might be pushing his luck, but he doesn't care.

"Yeah, yeah, totally, whenever you want," she smiles as they walk down the stairs. "Just text, or I'll text you, whatever."

"Actually, can we do something this week?" Stiles asks coming to a stop by the front door. "Together, with the rest of our frien- err, pack."

Lydia's eyes go wide again but she quickly recovers jumping at the invitation.

"Yeah, sure, of course, I'll plan something for tomorrow or the day after or something."

"Maybe not a sleepover, I don't think I'm ready for those yet," Stiles says.

"No, of course, maybe a movie night or something."

She opens the door for him.

"Yeah, that sounds good." Stiles turns to her, standing on her porch. He doesn't want to leave.

"We can have it at your place if you want, that way you can kick us out if it becomes too overwhelming for you," Lydia says and Stiles smiles.

"Sounds even better." He lets out a chuckle. They stare at eachother again. They've been doing alot of that, haven't they? "So, I'm gonna..." Stiles says pointing towards his jeep.

"Yeah," Lydia quips awkwardly, then a thought hits her. "Hey, are you good to drive home?"

"Oh, yeah, totally, dad has been driving me all over town to remind me of where everything is and how to get home, so I'm good." She nods. "Bye." He smiles one last time turning away, not knowing what to do with his hands.

He's a few steps away from his jeep when she calls out for him. "Hey, Stiles?"

"Yeah?" He turns and is surprised to see her right in front of him.

"I know this is really weird considering you barely know me, but could you text me when you get home?" She rambles barely taking time to breathe. "It's just something we used to do, and it will put my mind at ease knowing you're safe at home."

"Yeah sure, sure. I have your number, right?" Stiles says, fishing his phone out of his pocket.

"Yeah, um, it's under Lyds."

"Lyds."

"Yeah."

They lock eyes again, this time both smiling shyly. She is so much shorter than he is without her heels. She looks even more nervous than before, and he thinks she might be stalling, but he could also be deluding himself.

Lydia counts to five in her head and before she can think about it, she gets on the tip of her toes and kisses Stiles' cheek.

She quickly walks back up her porch, too scared to see the look on his face.

"Night Lydia," he calls, touching his cheeks and grinning to himself.

"Night Stiles," she calls back, turning to look at him.

They share one last smile before he gets in his jeep and drives off.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I wrote another thing. I can't even believe I actually did this. It's the first time I even try anything other than a one shot. I want to write more of this, but I'm really scared my updates won't be regular. So here's the deal: I won't be calling this a chapter fic. I'll definitely be writing more, but I'll make sure each new entry I post won't end with a cliffhanger, and it will only relate to what's happened in previous entries. That way, if at any moment I feel like I have to stop this, then it won't feel like unfinished story. Think of it as a collection of one shots in the same verse.
> 
> Also, I just realized something. It's been established on the show that werewolves cannot appear in pictures. For the sake of this story, werewolves look absolutely normal in pictures.
> 
> I'm nervous about posting this. I hope you like it. Feedback is more than welcome! Unbeta'ed.

_Got home safe. Thanks for today. And sorry for just showing up out of nowhere._

Lydia stares at the lit screen having a hard time believing Stiles actually texted her. She hasn't stopped thinking about their conversation since he left her house, and that was over forty minutes ago. Forty seven to be exact, but who cares. It's not like she's counting or anything. Okay, so maybe she's counting. Don't judge. The love of her life just came to see her after losing any and all memories of her and then shutting her out for over a month. So yeah, she has the right to be a little shaken up. Wait, did she just think of Stiles as the love of her life? 

"Ughh," Lydia groans throwing her phone across the room and plopping down face first on her bed. She's tempted to scream into her pillow, but now is not the time to prove her banshee powers, and to a pillow of all things.  

Stiles had texted her ten minutes after leaving her place, and she's yet to reply. She knows she should, but she can't bring herself to. What is she supposed to say, "you're welcome, you can show up on my doorstep anytime, wink wink"?  

This time she does scream into her pillow. It's okay, linen can take it.  

She thinks maybe she dreamed the whole thing. That maybe she wanted him to want to remember her so bad that she actually imagined him coming to her house and spending time with her in her room. Oh god, it was just a dream, wasn't it?  

She pulls herself off her bed so fast, she nearly gets dizzy, and sprints across her room to pick up her phone.  

_Got home safe. Thanks for today. And sorry for just showing up out of nowhere._

She breathes a sigh of relief. She's not crazy. Stiles is real. Stiles wants to try to go back to the way things were.  

She snuggles further into his hoodie - did she imagine it, or did it look like he recognized it? - and smiles to herself. She hides half her face into it, so the collar reaches her nose, and she smiles wider. So she might look a bit like a creeper, standing alone in her room, grinning like an idiot and sniffing random articles of clothing, but whatever, she misses Stiles and it smells like him and it's not like it's his boxers.

She should text him back. But there's something she needs to do first. She picks up her phone and dials the number that has easily taken top spot on her most-dialed list as of late. 

Scott answers on the second ring. 

"Hey, Lydia." 

Somehow, his voice has become one of the most soothing sounds to her. Whenever she's feeling stressed or overwhelmed - which let's face it, ever since Stiles had his accident has been a daily thing - she just gives him a call, and just talking to him makes it all better. Maybe because he is such a nice guy, possibly because they've become such close friends, but mostly because he is such a big part of who Stiles is. And she is such a big part of who Stiles is. And big parts of who Stiles is need to stick together. Period.

"Hey, wolfboy." She hears him groan into his phone, and it's enough to put a smile on her face. "I'm not interrupting anything important, am I?"

"Not really, Isaac and I are just playing video games."

"Playing video games, huh? Is that what kids are calling it these days?"

"Jesus, Lyds." He groans again and she smiles wider into her phone. One of her favorite pastimes is messing with Scott. "Sometimes I wonder why I even talk to you."

"So, Stiles came over today." She knows she shouldn't drop a bombshell like that, but she's tired of small talk and she just wants to say it out loud, because maybe that will cement the reality of the situation in her mind.

"WHAT?" He yells into the receiver. She hears the sound of something crashing on the other end followed by Isaac yelling "Ouch!" and somehow she knows Scott dropped his controller on Isaac's head. 

"Yeah," she says in a small voice because she's still not sure it's real.

"Stiles came over? As in Stiles came over to your place? Our Stiles?"

"No he came over to the supermarket and I thought it important to tell you," she deadpans frustrated. "Yes, he came over to my place, why else would I be telling you?"

"Well, what did he want?" Scott asks, and she can hear the hope coloring his tone.

"To remember us." They're both quiet for a few minutes as they both process what Lydia just said. "Scott? You still here?" 

"Yeah, yeah," he says. "I'm just trying to wrap my head around it. I spent so much time forcing myself to stop hoping he'll come around, to accept the fact that my best friend in the world is gone for good, that I'm scared of actually letting myself believe there may be a chance."

"I know," she sighs, because she really does know. This is mostly why she and Scott have been talking so much lately, to help one another accept the fact that Stiles may never come back, not really. But now there's a chance he might want to, and it's the scariest thing they've faced, and they've faced some pretty terrifying shit.

"Are you okay?" Scott asks and Lydia smiles because here she was worried Scott would be upset Stiles came to her first, and instead he was checking up on her. Dammit, she loves this kid. 

"I'm good. It was a bit awkward at first, but once we got to talking, it was alright." There's a moment of silence as he waits for her to continue. "He's still the same Stiles, Scott."

"I know."

"No Scott, you have no idea how much. The things he said and did, it was like I was remembering things, it was that close to how it happened in the past." She sighs. "I'm not making sense. I just don't know how to explain it."

"It's okay, Lyds," Scott says, and she knows he understands. "It's not meant to be easy."

"He wants to see us. Like hang out, all of us together. Could you, just, can you come over?"

"Yeah, of course, I'll be over in twenty."

"Bring Isaac with you. I'll text Allison and Derek. We gotta start planning."

"See you in a few," Scott says before hanging up.

"Bye. 

She stands in the middle of her room for a few more minutes thinking back to this afternoon, worry still weighing her down. She takes a deep breath, reads his text again, and this time she presses the reply button.

_I'm glad you came around. I'm thinking we can do movie night Friday if you're up for it. Let me know._

Send.

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He chickens out and they don't do movie night on Friday. Instead, it's tonight, on Saturday night of all nights (he doesn't know why he thinks of it as Saturday night of all nights, because really, his nights have consisted mostly of him playing twenty questions with his dad - the memory loss edition - and then staring at a bunch of pictures until he falls asleep, so it's not like he had a semblance of a social life or anything to speak of.)

It's four in the afternoon and Stiles has been pacing nervously around the house for three hours now, doing chores to occupy his time and take his mind off things, but nothing works. He can't stop thinking about tonight, and Lydia, and what if Scott doesn't want to be his friend anymore, and what if Isaac and Allison and Derek think the new him isn't as good as the old Stiles, and what if they don't want him in the pack anymore?

It's absolutely ridiculous because he's in a fucking pack and he doesn't even remember it and he shouldn't be so worried about something he doesn't even remember, for Christ's sake.

But he is.

He towel dries the last of the dishes and heads upstairs to his room. He stands in front of the wall where he's now stuck a few of the pictures he found, and he just stares at them. He looks at the one of the pack sitting in his living room again and he sighs. 

He knows tonight probably won't be anything like that picture, but he still hopes it might be. 

He takes a peak at the alarm clock by his bedside. 16:04. He sighs once more before going to take a shower. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They pull up Stiles' driveway at 8 sharp thanks to Lydia's flawless planning skills. It's just her and Scott for now. 

When the pack came by her house after she called Scott, they talked about what happened and how they would go about things from then on. They'd finally agreed that what drove Stiles away the last time was that it probably felt like he was being ambushed. 

So this time, even though he asked for them all to be here, they would ease him into it. Scott and Lydia would get there first, and then when it feels like things are settling, one of them would shoot Allison a text, and she'd drop by with Isaac and Derek in tow. 

Chris and Melissa wanted to be there as well, but Scott had put his foot down and told them to be patient. Although, Lydia's pretty sure they'll both be making an appearance later tonight, especially since Melissa and the Sheriff have been by each other's sides more often than not as of late.

"Are you ready?" Scott asks snapping Lydia out of her thoughts.

She looks at him and nods slowly. She knows that even though he's trying to keep a straight face, he's just as worried as she is. 

"We're gonna be okay," she tells him. She puts her hand over his on the steering wheel, trying to ease the tension out of it. "He wants this," she continues and he relaxes a bit, letting go of the wheel and squeezing her hand in return. 

"Here goes nothing," he whispers opening the door and getting out of the car. Lydia does the same, and then straightens her shirt as Scott gets the bag of groceries from the backseat. 

She's dressed in an oversized black knit sweater with grey skinnies and flats. Her hair is braided down her back and she's got no makeup on. She spent half the day fretting over what to wear, but then she decided to wear something comfortable because even though he might not remember it, she knew Stiles liked it best when she was dressed down. 

She stands frozen, staring at the house for a few seconds before Scott joins her, bag in hand. She looks at him in time to see him let out a nervous breath. 

He's more worried than she is, and he's got every right to be. After all, Stiles had come to her, and they'd had one slightly awkward but entirely welcome conversation before this. But this is the first time Scott will be seeing his best friend since the last time they were here, which turned out to be a disaster. They had come with such high hopes and had left with nothing but despair. Which is why she can't blame Scott if he might be thinking of backing out of this. She's got half a mind to turn away and run herself because when exactly was it that alpha packs and kanimas became the least of their worries? 

But then something urges her to looks up to where she knows Stiles' room is, and she notices him standing by the window. Seeing him makes this so much more real and she has to physically stop herself from taking a step back. He's looking at her and she realizes just how much she misses him. She misses his easy laugh. She misses the stupid sarcastic comments he threw in every chance he got. She misses his endless supply of plaid shirts. Which, coincidentally, he's wearing one today. The green one she likes best. 

He smiles and waves nervously and she can't help the small smile she returns. He's just as awkward as ever and it tugs at her heartstrings. 

"It's too late to back out now," she says snapping Scott out of his own stupor. He looks at her and then turns to where she's looking. Stiles sends an easy smile Scott's way before disappearing into the room. 

"Let's go get our boy back," Scott says heading to the front door. She doesn't miss the stupid grin on his face. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He's staring at the pictures again, trying to figure out who the statuesque blonde standing next to that dark giant of a man is when he hears a car pull up his driveway.

They're here. There's no backing out now. Not that he wants to. Sure, he had his moment of doubt yesterday, but he's ready to get his old life back. He's still got at least two years of high school left (three, if they force him to repeat his year, but he only missed the last three weeks of the school year and he and his dad have been getting some extra study time to make sure he's still on top, and they've been pleasantly surprised to learn that that part of his memory seems to be perfectly intact), so it's not the time to try to start a new life. Besides, even if he wants to move on and forget about them, something won't let him. There's some sort of weird connection that he has to these people that won't allow him to let go of them. It's not exactly a bad thing, it just feels weird to care about people he doesn't really know. At least not that he remembers.

Curiosity takes over and he moves to stand by the window in time to see the beams go dark and hear the engine coming to a stop. It's just one car and he knows it's Lydia's because he saw it in her driveway when he was at her place three days ago. Did they all come together? Anticipation is killing him, and it doesn't help that they don't seem to be wanting to get out of the car.

Did they change their minds? Do they not want to do this anymore?

Before he can question himself to death, the front doors open simultaneously, and out come Scott and Lydia. He's surprised to see Scott on the driver's side. He likes that they're close enough to drive each other's cars. It says a lot about how much they trust each other. Did they use to drive the Jeep, too? Did he ever drive any of their cars? Or was it just Scott and Lydia who were that close? It's not time for stupid questions, he knows, but he can't help it.

Scott opens the back door, and Stiles expects Allison to come out, but instead, Scott ducks in and comes back out holding a brown paper bag

Before he has time to dwell on the fact that it seems to be just the two of them, his eyes find Lydia again, and he loses his train of thought. She's straightening out her clothes and she looks so small in her oversized shirt and braid down her back and lord he wants nothing but to go down and spend some time with her already. He's past the point of wondering how the hell he can care so much for a girl he's seen all of three times and had one conversation with.

She takes a step forward and Scott joins her. They stand frozen for a minute or two  when Lydia suddenly looks up at him. Fuck, she's even more beautiful than he remembers. He's nervous and weird and he just waves at her awkwardly and pulls his face into what he hopes is a smile. This girl does weird things to him, and if this is how it was before he lost his memory, he's not sure how he made it through eight years of it. She smiles back and he's suddenly less nervous and more excited. In the darkness he can make out her lips moving and then Scott's looking up at him. Once again he's surprised at how easy it is to imagine that this boy is his best friend. The billion pictures of them together probably help a little, but somehow even without having talked to him yet, he knows that Scott is a good person, he knows that Scott is someone who cares, and he thinks he cares about him too.

Scott sends a smile his way and it's all Stiles needs before he leaves the window. He takes the stairs two at a time but then halts at the front door. He doesn't want to seem like a spazz, and the girl he supposedly loves and his best friend are literally on the other side, so he needs a minute to process. He's on second 26 of said minute when he hears the sound of the door being unlocked and _oh my god do they have a key?_

His eyes go wide and he takes a step back. He almost trips on the carpet before the door opens and he's facing Scott and Lydia.  His arms are flailing as he tries to regain balance. It's so painfully familiar that Lydia and Scott can't help but share a look as Stiles tries to straighten up and brush it off.

"Hi," he manages to stammer after a moment looking from Lydia to Scott, fighting the urge to awkwardly wave at them again. Seriously, he needs to stop with the waving.

"Hi," Lydia says tugging on her sleeves and looking at him like he's the most fascinating thing she's seen.

"Hi." It's Scott's turn this time. He has a half smile on his face and a bag of groceries in hand and what is up with his jaw?

"Dude, your jaw's really weird." Holy shit did he just say that out loud? _Shit shit fuck shit_. His eyes go wide and he's about to apologize when Scott interrupts him.

"My jaw's weird? How about your nose, then?" Scott's mock offended look is ridiculous, and just like that it feels like a giant vacuum has literally sucked all of the tension out of the room.

"Oh my god," Lydia groans rolling her eyes and Stiles can't help but smile. She takes a step forward and he moves to let her in.

"Make yourself at home."

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Oh my god," she groans making her way inside the house and Stiles moves aside. 

"Make yourself at home," she hears him say behind her.

Her knees almost buckle under the relief that floods her, but she keeps straight as she heads into the kitchen. She's trying to hide the big ass grin on her face, but she knows she's doing a horrible job at it.

She starts opening cabinets and getting stuff out but then she stops and goes to lean on the counter. 

Stiles is looking at her in a way she doesn't understand and Scott is already raiding the fridge. 

"Why'd you stop?"

"Um, I don't know. Maybe you're uncomfortable with random strangers making food in your kitchen," she says and she knows it's a stupid thought, but they've made more progress in five minutes than they made in a month and she's scared to do anything that might take them a step back.

Scott freezes when he hears her talk and he looks so ridiculous half into the fridge carrying twenty different condiments that they probably won't use. He takes a step back looking from Stiles to Lydia not sure what to do. "Sorry, I didn't think...." He stammers. "I c- I can put-"

"Ok I just told you to make yourself at home not five seconds ago," Stiles starts, interrupting Scott. "And this," he says pointing at each of them with a finger, "constitutes as making yourself at home." He's looking at Lydia whose grin keeps getting bigger by the second. "Also, I think we've already established the fact that you guys are not random strangers," he continues and Lydia feels the butterflies rioting in her stomach.

He moves to lean next to her on the counter while Scott approaches them and starts emptying his arms. 

Lydia and Stiles' arms brush and Lydia has to look down to hide the blush on her face. 

"I thought I heard something," the Sheriff's voice comes from right outside the kitchen as he makes his way in. "Hey guys," he says moving to ruffle Scott's hair and give Lydia a kiss. 

"Hi Sheriff," Lydia replies smiling. She likes the Sheriff. A lot. And it's not just cause he's Stiles' dad. It's mostly cause he cares so much about his son, and by extension, his son's friends. And Lydia doesn't want to dismiss her father's role in her life, she loves her father, but he wasn't exactly there for her. So she likes it that she can act like the kid and not the parent around Sheriff Stilinski. She shudders, thinking of the last time he saved her from something, and the price they all had to pay for it. She touches the scar on her neck and then shakes the dark thought out of her head. Now is not the time for this.

She notices Stiles looking down at her, worry coloring his features, and she manages a reassuring smile. He moves a little closer to her, and their arms are now legitimately touching. This is the only form of comfort he can offer right now, and it's more than she's ever expected. The butterflies are now leading a full-on revolution.

"Hey Sheriff," Scott says putting the last of the stuff on the counter.

"I'm just here to get something to eat." He reaches out for a bag of chips on the counter.

"Dad you can't ea-"

"Sheriff you're not supp-"

"You shouldn't be eat-"

They all start speaking at the same time and the sheriff has to take a step back. 

Lydia wants to laugh and Stiles is smiling, seemingly happy about this development. At least if anything ever happens to him, someone else will be there to stuff healthy food down his dad's throat.

It's Scott who gets the last word out. 

"You're not supposed to eat this," he starts. "I'll make you a sandwich," he continues. 

"When did you become the parent?" The Sheriff asks raising an eyebrow at Scott.

"Actually, it's Mrs. McCall who insisted we watch out for you," Lydia interjects and she's one step away from winking at him. 

Stiles is looking at her slightly confused and she mouths "later". He nods and turns back to his father whose cheeks have turned a peach color. 

"Alright, okay, well, you kids know your way, I'll be in my study if you need anything." He starts to walk towards the door. "Don't break anything," he yells once he's turned the corner. 

Scott groans and Lydia laughs. 

"So, him and your mom," Stiles starts to say, turning to rest his hands on the counter and look at Scott. 

"They've been getting close," Scott says. 

"And we're cool with that?" Stiles asks. 

"I mean, we never really explicitly talked about it, but yeah. They're both good people and they care about each other, so why not."

"Good." Stiles is smiling. "I want my dad to be happy." 

"And I want my mom to be happy." 

They share a smile before Stiles starts going through the stuff on the counter. 

"So are Allison, Isaac and Derek not coming?" Stiles asks. "Also, what's all this?"

"They'll be here in a bit, they just had some things to do," Scott replies. "Actually I was just thinking I could shoot them a text to check on them." He fishes his phone out of his pocket and looks at Lydia who nods his way. 

"And this," she says gesturing to the stuff on the counter, "is everything we need for the snacks. We usually just make turkey and cheese sandwiches." She moves around Stiles to stand on his other side. She starts rifling through the jars Scott got out of the fridge. "Mayo for you and Scott, mustard for me, light mayo for the sheriff, barbecue sauce for Allison and Derek, and soy sauce for Isaac."

"Soy sauce with turkey?" Stiles can't hide the disgusted look on his face.

"We don't comment on Isaac's nasty eating habits," Lydia says failing to hide her disgust as well. 

"What about the rest of the stuff?" Stiles asks pointing at the remaining jars and bottles on the counter. There's hot sauce, relish, ranch, a jar of sun-dried tomatoes, fig jam and peanut butter for some reason. 

"Table decoration." 

Stiles lets out a chuckle and starts emptying the contents of the paper bag. There's bread and butter, as well as turkey slices and cheese. The bottom of the bag is filled with candy. He fishes out a Mars bar and a bag of tortilla chips.

"And these?" He hold them out for Lydia to see.

"More snacks. Each of us has something we like best. We're not a very picky bunch usually, but when it comes to food, we're the worst."

He pulls out two packets of Reese's. "So these are mine, then."

"Actually, they're for the both of us," Lydia interjects shyly. Stiles looks at her likes he wants to kiss her. "It wasn't my favorite thing in the world until you got me addicted," she continues because she does not want any awkward silence today. "Now peanut butter cups are my life."

He smiles opening a pack and handing her one of the two cups.

"Thanks."

"So let me guess, the oyster chips are Isaac's?" Stiles says chewing on the chocolate.

"How'd you know?" Scott looks up after putting his phone back in his pocket.

"It's the most disgusting thing in the bag."

Stiles continues emptying the contents of the bag while Scott and Lydia laugh.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

They make a game of it. While Lydia starts buttering the bread for the sandwiches, Scott and Stiles empty the content of the bag with Stiles trying to match the candy to the people. He ends up getting four right (the Oreos are Scott's, the Mars Bar Allison's, the tortilla chips Derek's and the popcorn is everyone's) out of seven (he is surprised to learn the second most disgusting item in the bag, licorice, is not in fact Isaac's but Allison's, and that the pack of cheese crackers is not Lydia's but Scott's. The biggest shocker however is that the sour sticks are not his but Lydia's. Scott explains to him that he swore them off after an incident in 4th grade that involved him, a bunch of idiot bullies, and the 3rd floor bathrooms at school).

Once they're done with the groceries, they move to help Lydia with the sandwiches. The three of them bicker as Lydia bosses the boys around, and it's comfortable and easily the best Stiles has felt since his accident, so much so that he can't help but marvel at how easy it is to fall back into old habits with Scott and Lydia, even when he doesn't necessarily remember said habits. 

They've prepared the snacks and are about the take the Sheriff's sandwich to him when Stiles finally gathers the courage to ask what's been on his mind for the past thirty minutes. 

"Hey, guys?"

"What's up?" Scott asks as both he and Lydia turn to look at their friend. 

The worried look on Lydia's face is all Stiles can see and he tries to look as reassuring as possible.  

"Can we go up to my room for a second? I need to show you something."

"Um, yeah, sure," Lydia says barely above a whisper. He doesn't like it that she looks so impossibly small because of him. "Let me just put the snacks in the fridge."

"I'm just gonna take this to your dad's study," Scott says moving with the Sheriff's plate in hand without waiting for their response. 

Stiles smiles at Lydia who still looks worried. "It's nothing bad, I promise," he says because he can't help it, he doesn't like seeing her like that. 

She manages a smile as they make their way out of the kitchen and up the stairs. The silence is not uncomfortable anymore and Stiles has the overwhelming urge to lace his fingers with Lydia's. He reaches out but wimps out at the last second and flexes his fingers instead. They can already hear Scott's footsteps getting closer. Stiles opens the door for Lydia and lets her in. She seems hesitant, but Stiles already knows it's not her first time in here. There are pictures to prove it. Speaking of which, the first thing she notices is the wall made up of pictures. Which is precisely what Stiles wanted to show them. 

"Wow," Scott lets out as he makes his way into the room and goes to stand next to Lydia. 

"What's all this?" She manages to let out in a hoarse voice. Her eyes are glistening with unshed tears and it bothers Stiles to no ends. 

"This is what I wanted to show you guys," Stiles starts looking at the wall. "I, um, found these a few weeks ago, and I've been trying to go through them every day, hoping maybe some hint of a memory will flicker through," he continues. Both Scott and Lydia are alternating between looking at him and the photos. "I've accepted now that that's not going to happen." He hears Scott's sharp intake of breathe and notices a single tear roll down Lydia's cheek, and it takes all of his willpower not to go to her and wipe it away. "No, that's not a bad thing," he continues looking at Lydia urging her to understand. "Well it sort of is a bad thing, but not if I don't let it be, because I've already decided I trust you guys. I can't explain it, but there's something that's pulling me towards you, like a magnet or a tether or something."

It's Lydia's turn to gasp at the same time Scott turns to look at her.

"What?" Stiles asks.

"Nothing."

"It's obviously not nothing. What is it?" he insists because whatever it is, he wants to know. 

Lydia can't seem to find her voice and Scott comes to her rescue. "It's just, we've heard this before." 

"Um, okay?" Stiles furrows his brow because he still obviously doesn't understand.

"It's a really long story, Stiles, and we can talk about it later if you want, I promise," Lydia finds her voice and looks at Stiles, her eyes pleading. 

"I'm gonna hold you to that promise," Stiles says, a hint of amusement in his voice. Lydia smiles at him and he already feels better. "Anyway, the point is, I can't remember, but I want to recreate the memories with you guys." He kind of expects the confused looks he gets. "The photos on the wall are divided into three different parts for a reason. These," he gestures towards the pictures at the right side of the wall, "are things I don't think I need to remember."

There are only about five pictures in this group. Two of them are pictures of him surrounded by a bunch of people with a birthday cake in front of him. He only recognizes Scott in both pictures, and he doesn't really think it necessary to remember birthdays anyway. He'll get more birthdays - hopefully - so he can make new memories then. Another two are of him in formal wear. He's on the arm of a blonde in one of them, and though she's kinda cute, she's not Lydia so he doesn't care. In the other one, he's with a group of people that includes Scott, Isaac, and Lydia, only she's holding on to some boy, and he really doesn't want to remember a time when she was with anyone else. The last one shows a group of people in lacrosse gear. He doesn't need to remember it, because pretty soon he'll get to experience it firsthand. He and his dad have been squeezing in practice time so he can still have a spot on the team when school starts. The sheriff has already cleared it with Coach Finstock. 

"This second group," he continues moving to stand in front of the pictures on the far left, and he feels Scott and Lydia follow him, "is things that are still confusing to me. It's mostly people I don't recognize at all. Like them." He points at the picture he was looking at before they got here, the one with the pretty blonde and the hulk-like guy. "Who are they?" 

"Erica and Boyd," Lydia answers and she has a sad look on her face. "They were part of Derek's pack." 

"Were?"

"They're dead," Scott says.

"Oh." Once again, Stiles feels a sadness he can't understand. "Were we close?"

"Not at the beginning," Lydia says smiling at some memory. "But then we learned to care about them. They liked you a lot. Especially Erica." 

Stiles smiles sadly. He probably liked them, too. He pulls the picture off the wall and moves to stick it with the ones on the far right. There's no point in remembering sad things, he's got enough of those in his life already. 

He moves back to the left side and stares at the other pictures. He notices a picture of a boy with blue eyes and it hits him that this is the same boy on Lydia's arm in the other photo. He glances over at her and then moves to take the photo off the wall. He doesn't even go to the right side, just goes and throws it in the trash. 

He can see Lydia trying to hide a smile and he hears Scott chuckle.

"You should probably add this one to the pile," Scott says, taking a photo of a set of twins off the wall and throwing it in the trash. 

Lydia giggles and Stiles raises his eyebrows. 

"Jesus, Lyds, both of them?" 

He says it so naturally he doesn't even notice at first, but Lydia's suddenly wide eyes clue him in. _Lyds._  

Lydia recovers from her shock and her smile mirrors his. 

"No you idiot," she can't help but chuckle. "Ethan would more likely go for you."

"Have him give me a call, then," he lets out laughing and just like that, the tension is gone.

"Alright, Casanova," Scott says chuckling along with them. "So, what do the pictures in the middle stand for then?"

"Things I want to remember," he starts, but before the mood can darken again, he continues. "But like I said before, since I can't remember, I just thought maybe you guys could help me recreate these memories."

He'd been very nervous about asking this of them. He came to that decision the night he went to Lydia's. Right after he got back from her house, he sorted through the photos and decided to accept the fact that he would not remember. But he also decided that he did not want to let go of Lydia or the others even though he hadn't officially met them. So he'd ask them for their help. If they cared as much as they said, they would do it.

"I know you guys have things to do that don't involve me and you have lives and you probably look at all these pictures and think 'been there done that', and I almost didn't ask, you know, this is actually why I cancelled on you guys yesterday, because I chickened out, but I want to-"

"Oh my god, will you just shut up!" Scott interrupts before Stiles can get another word in. Even Lydia seems surprised at his outburst. "Christ, Stiles, you don't even have to ask," he continues, and Stiles has to admit this is not what he expected when he was so rudely interrupted. "I know you don't remember, but you've been my best friend since we were 4. Aside from killing my mom, there is literally nothing that you could ask that I wouldn't do for you."

Stiles can't help the smile that creeps up his face. It's sappy and cheesy and the nicest thing anyone's ever said to him. "Thanks."

"Just, don't make a big deal out of it," Scott says ducking his head and scratching the back of his neck nervously. "Lyds, you in?" He turns towards Lydia probably to deflect the attention off himself. She's looking at them with the goofiest smile on her face.

"Are you seriously asking me that question?" She raises her eyebrows, and for a split second Stiles is worried she doesn't want to do it. "We're already getting a head start, you know," she continues turning towards the wall. Stiles and Scott move to flank her on each side.

"Let me guess, tonight we're recreating this photo, right?" Stiles asks pointing at the picture he's been wanting to remember the most.

The middle section is actually the one with the most pictures. About 20 or so, and Stiles had to really fight the urge not to just shove all the pictures in the center and tell them he wanted to remember literally everything. He'd eventually settled on putting up everything with both Scott and Lydia in it, along with some other pictures that looked worth remembering. He has three favorites: The one he is currently pointing at, another where he and Allison are sitting under a tree in the woods their backs on the trunk engrossed in something they're reading while Lydia and Isaac stand to their right looking at a phone in Lydia's hand, and a third picture of Lydia and Allison tucked under the blankets in his bed seemingly in hysterics, with Scott laying horizontally at their feet striking a very on point Cleopatra pose. His third favorite has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Lydia is tucked into his bed. Nope. Not at all.

"Oh my god, look at Derek's face," Lydia laughs nodding.

Scott and Stiles laugh along with her when they hear a soft knock on the door. Allison's head peaks in, a shy smile on her face.

"Hi, sorry, um, we just- I just wanted to let you guys know we're here," she manages to stutter looking from Lydia to Scott to Stiles back and forth. "Your, um, dad, he let us in."

"Yeah, sure, sure," Stiles stammers and the nervousness is back but the smile on his face is genuine.

It's a bit awkward as he and Allison stand quietly looking at each other before she seemingly can't stand the silence anymore.

"Sorry, I don't know what to do," she says honestly half hiding her face with one of her hands, and Stiles can see why Scott likes her so much. "Should I, like, introduce myself?"

"Please don't," Stiles laughs breathing a sigh of relief because she's just as awkward about this as he is. "You're Allison, you're a kick ass hunter, you're her best friend," he points at Lydia, "and I've been told you're one of mine as well."

"Yeah," Allison manages to get out, a smile plastered on her face.

"Also, you like licorice which is really disgusting." Wow, he's on a roll today, isn't he?

"Says the boy who eats caramel sauce with French fries!" Allison shoots back instantly and both Scott and Lydia snicker.

"Ugh, do I really do that?" Stiles asks with a grossed out look on his face as he makes to move out of the room.

"Yes!" All three of them answer but only Allison moves to follow him out.

Scott and Lydia stand for a few more seconds staring at the wall.

"We're getting our boy back," Scott says and Lydia smiles before they follow their friends out.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It takes Stiles all of five seconds to get used to Isaac. It takes him even less to get used to Derek.

Since Stiles is the guest of honor, they decide to watch Star Wars (as many as they can squeeze in in one night). So what if it's technically his house.

Stiles shares the couch with Lydia and Allison, and he has to take a second to process because if sitting sandwiched between two beautiful girls is what his life is like, then he can get used to it. The only downside is that he barely manages to focus on the movie, what with him and Lydia sitting so close on the small couch, their arms and legs touching. And sharing peanut butter cups.

Scott and Isaac settle on the floor, and Derek alternates between watching the movie with them and sitting with the sheriff in his study.

It's comfortable and easy and so much fun and Stiles thinks his life was kinda awesome.

Just as Lydia predicted, Mr. Argent and Mrs. McCall make an appearance sometime around 11pm. Stiles gets up to greet them and get properly introduced (which is really unnecessary). Mr. Argent shakes his hand before going to find his father, while Mrs. McCall stands a minute longer, blinking back tears. Stiles decides he likes them.

They all leave around midnight. Stiles doesn't want them to, but he knows he should take things slow, because although he meant it when he said he wants to know them, he understands that he can still get overwhelmed.

He hugs Melissa and Allison goodbye and Scott teaches him their secret handshake. Which, as Lydia points out, is not so secret when done so in public. Speaking of Lydia, she's the last one on his doorstep. Scott waits for her in the car. Isaac leaves with Melissa so she doesn't have to drive alone at such a late hour.

Stiles makes Lydia promise to text him when she's home, and he gathers the courage to kiss her cheek before she leaves. He has the biggest, dumbest grin on his face, and he sees her roll her eyes and flush at something Scott says when she gets in the car. They both wave at him before they drive off.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He's  in his room, still grinning like an idiot when he gets her text.

_Home safe. I had fun tonight. I hope you did too._

He has half a mind to call her. The things this girl does to him. And he barely knows her. He settles on texting her back.

_More than you know. Can I see you tomorrow?_

She texts back not even a minute later.

_Yes._


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here goes chapter 3! I'm really sorry for the delay, but my sister gave birth on Tuesday, and I am so completely in love with my nephew I can barely let him go. He's the first baby in the family, and I think anyone with kids/nephews and nieces can understand how I feel. 
> 
> Anyway, I am not completely satisfied with this chapter, but I didn't wanna make you guys wait any longer. Maybe I'll edit it tomorrow and post a revised version after. Maybe not. Anyway, enjoy!

_Yes._

 

She's grinning like an idiot when she hits the send button. She's having a hard time believing all of this is real. He actually wants to see her again. 

 

True, he told her as much when he first came to her house, but when he cancelled on their plans Friday night, she really thought this would be it for good. Then he texted her on Saturday morning asking if they could come over that night instead, and she wanted to believe so badly, yet she was still convinced he would eventually cancel.

 

But he didn't. And she just got back from his house, and he kissed her before she left, and he wants to see her again. Her heart's beating so fast, she'd be worried if she wasn't so happy. 

 

She's afraid to even blink because then maybe she'll open her eyes to realize all of this is a figment of her imagination, and that Stiles still does not know or care who she is. 

 

She'd smiled like an idiot the whole ride back home. The fact that Scott was smiling like an idiot as well didn't help. The night had gone so much better than they'd expected, they could hardly believe it.

 

She snaps out of her daze, the smile still plastered on her face. Her room is a mess, since she went through her closet like a hurricane when she'd been trying to pick an outfit earlier. She should maybe tidy up a bit, pick some clothes off the floor or something before she goes to bed, but she can't be bothered to. She brushes her teeth, throws on one of Stiles' shirts, and gets under the covers. 

 

She closes her eyes, and all she can see is Stiles. Stiles looking at her through his bedroom window. Stiles standing next to her by the kitchen counter. Stiles throwing away Jackson's picture. Stiles sitting next to her so impossibly close on the living room couch, sharing his chocolate with her, and how he'd smiled at her when she woke up after she'd dozed off, her head on his shoulder, his arm tentatively reaching across her back.

 

She falls asleep thinking of Stiles' lips, and how they lingered just a split second longer than necessary, and how his fingers clutched hers lightly when he leaned in to press a kiss against her cheek.

 

\-------------------------------------

 

Stiles jolts awake, drenched in his own sweat, barely able to catch his breath. He looks around for a second, panic clouding his vision, before he jumps to pick up his phone off his bedside table to check his messages. His last text is from Lydia, and it's all he can do not to cry in relief. 

 

It was just a nightmare. But it felt so so real. He doesn't know which was worse, the hairy beasts chasing him which he knew to be Scott, Isaac and Derek, Allison shooting at him with a gun over and over again, or Lydia's distorted screams. He also vaguely remembers seeing a figure so frightfully disturbing, its bald head and burn scars taunting him as it chased him through the woods. He woke up just in time to avoid its claws. 

 

He clutches the phone tightly to his side, Lydia's messages the only thing grounding him to reality.

 

He's finally able to breathe when he decides to get up. He can see from his window the first lights of dawn. He won't be getting any more sleep. 

 

He hops in the shower, letting the scolding water relax his muscles. His mind wanders to the night before, and he remembers Lydia's blush and Allison's infectious laugh and Scott's excitement and Isaac's ridiculous comments and even Derek and the amusement he tries so hard to hide, and Stiles feels the tension draining out of his body, a sense of calm washing over him. 

 

He allows himself another twenty minutes before he gets out of the shower. He's not going out until later, so he throws on a pair of sweats and and a t-shirt before heading downstairs. 

 

He checks the clock on his way to the kitchen. 6:15. His dad will be up soon. It's his first real day back at the station. He'd been on a semi-vacation since Stiles had his accident, only answering to urgent calls, and even then he made sure to always take Stiles with him. But after some roping from Stiles, he's finally accepted that he needs to get back to work.

 

Stiles turns on the coffee machine and gets started on breakfast. He's already put some bread in the toaster and cracked the eggs when he notices the leftover oyster chips on the counter. He's disgusted and amused all at once.

 

He hears footsteps getting closer just as he's spooning the scrambled eggs into two plates. He's happy to see the surprised smile on his dad's face when he enters the kitchen. 

 

"You're up early."

 

"Good morning to you too," Stiles shoots back. 

 

"Morning, son," the sheriff says flashing his pearly whites. "I just wasn't expecting you to be up and churning at 6am," he continues. "It smells really good in here."

 

"There's fresh coffee," Stiles says pointing at the coffee machine. He doesn't want to make a big deal out of this, because it's not a big deal. He's just making breakfast. 

 

He sets the plates on the kitchen island then moves to pull out a couple of forks while his dad pours them coffee. He burns his fingers when he pulls the toast out, but then again, he always burns his fingers when the toaster is involved.

 

"This is really good," the sheriff says, scooping a spoonful of eggs in his mouth and sitting down on the high stool. 

 

"I know," Stiles barely manages to get out as he stuff his face with eggs and then takes a bite out of his toast. 

 

They're quiet for a few more minutes before the sheriff breaks the silence.

 

"So, last night went well," he starts casually.

 

Stiles may have lost his memory, but he still knows his father far too well. He's trying to get him to talk without pushing him. And Stiles likes that. He's comfortable around his dad. 

 

"Yeah, it was," Stiles starts, taking a sip of coffee. "A lot better than I expected." 

 

His dad smiles. "And did it trigger anything?" 

 

"Not really, but I don't mind it as much anymore. I mean, sure, it would be awesome to remember more about Scott and Lydia and Derek, but it's not crippling anymore."

 

"Yeah?"

 

"Yep," Stiles replies. 

 

The sheriff smiles again. "So, any plans for today?" He asks, taking another bite of his toast.

 

"Um, yeah. I'm probably gonna meet Lydia or something." Stiles tries to go for casual, but the blush that suddenly colors his cheeks gives him away.

 

"I guess some things never change," his dad says sending a knowing smile his way. 

 

"What are you talking about?" Yeah, okay, so he's feigning ignorance.

 

"I'm talking about the fact that Lydia was and always will be your number one priority, memory or no memory," the sheriff states and Stiles blushes a darker shade of crimson. "It's only right that she's finally come to her senses. It took her some time, but she's finally there."

 

"What are you talking about?" Is it getting hot in here? "Lydia and I are just friends, I mean, I barely even know her."

 

"Uh-huh."

 

"I'm serious!" And he is serious, because it's not possible to care about someone you've known for less than a week that much. So he doesn't like her. Not that way. The fact that he's barely thought about anything other than her this entire week is another issue completely. 

 

"Alright, alright, I believe you," his dad says, getting up and heading to the sink. He looks like he doesn't believe him. "Thanks for breakfast."

 

"Oh, it's nothing," Stiles brushes it off glad for the change of topic as he helps his dad with the dishes.

 

"I have to head out. Are you sure you'll be fine?"

 

"Stop worrying, I lost my memory, not my common sense! I'll be okay. I'm going out soon anyway." 

 

"Eager, are we?" His dad can't help but comment as they walk out of the kitchen and Stiles resists the urge to roll his eyes. 

 

"Bye dad," he says as he makes his way up the stairs to his room. 

 

"Bye son! Don't have too much fun."

 

Stiles is sure half of beacon hills heard him groan. He listens for the door and plops down on his bed when he hears it slam. 

 

It's still barely 7 and he's home alone. He still doesn't know what his plans for the day are, but he does know they involve Lydia. He made sure of that last night.

 

His mind wanders back to the night before and he can't help the smile that takes over his face. It was a good night. He learned a lot of things about his friends, like how Lydia never makes it through and entire movie night without falling asleep on someone's shoulder - Scott let it casually slip that it was almost always on his shoulder and Stiles tried very hard not to blush when he looked down at Lydia to see her head slowly making its way down said shoulder - and how Allison snorts a little when she laughs, and how Scott prefers the floor to the couch, and how Isaac is a little emotionally scarred but he prefers to laugh about it, and how Derek's way more into Star Wars than he lets on.

 

He feels himself slowly sinking further into his mattress and allows sleep to take over him. He wakes up 3 hours later to the sound of his phone ringing. It's his dad, checking up on him. He finishes his call, cleans himself up again, and gets dressed. He's glad he still likes plaid because his closet is full of it and not much else.

 

It's still relatively early by the time he's done, but he's too anxious to stay at home and he's already made plans for the day when he was brushing his teeth. At least plans for the morning.

 

He picks up his phone and dials the number he wants.

 

"Stiles?" She answers on the third ring, a surprised yet cheerful air to her voice.

 

"Hey, Allison, " Stiles says feeling awkward. 

 

Allison's a great girl, and she's his friend, but it's the first time he'a talking to her on the phone, and while they had an amazing time the night before, it's gonna take him some time to get used to her. But he might as well start now.

 

"Hey," she replies. There's a moment of silence. "Are you okay?" He hears her say, and he can actually tell a sudden panic's taken over her.

 

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry, I'm good," he reassures her quickly.

 

"Good, good." She lets out an audible sigh of relief. "So, um, do- um, did you have a good time last night?"

 

"I did, yeah. For a bunch of strangers, you people are fun." He knows it's a bad time to try and make a joke, but he's Stiles Stilinski, and memory or no memory, he makes bad jokes when he's nervous.

 

"Oh."

 

"Sorry." He cringes. "I'm sorry, I was just trying to lighten the mood." He can hear her let out a nervous laugh. "Did you have a good time?"

 

"Yeah, yeah, I did, of course," Allison assures him and he feels relief flood through him. "I missed us hanging out all together, so hopefully it was good for you, too."

 

"It was," he repeats. "Hey, Allison, I was actually calling because I wanted to ask you something else."

 

"Sure, anything."

 

\-------------------------------------

 

Lydia's about to get into the shower when her doorbell rings. She's home alone so it's not like she can ignore it. 

 

"One second!" She yells as she heads down the stairs. She's not expecting anyone, but she's used to people coming over unexpected, especially since the whole werewolf/banshee/all-kinds-of-weird-shit-going-on-in-beacon-hills situation was revealed to her. 

 

She stops for a second when she's in front of the door to catch her breath before she opens it.

 

To say that she is surprised would be an understatement. 

 

Stiles stands there in a purple plaid shirt and his favorite sneakers. He's got a carton tray with 2 coffees in one hand, a small brown paper bag in the other and a nervous smile on his face.

 

True, they'd agreed to do something together today, but Lydia did not think something would mean Stiles showing up at her doorstep with what looks like breakfast. She feels her heart swell. He looks so good she just wishes she could kiss him of hug him or something. Any form of contact would be okay right about now. 

 

She panics for a second when she realizes she looks like a mess. She's wearing his hoodie again, with not much else under, and a pair of shorts. Her feet are bare, her hair is messy and loose around her shoulders and she's got no makeup on. This is the second time in less than a week that she looks like a complete mess around him. Ugh. And it doesn't help that he looks so good with his longer hair. When did she start thinking Stiles is the hottest piece of ass around town?

 

She notices his eyes take in her bare legs, and she smiles to herself when he swallows loud and nervous. Good to know this still works in her favor.

 

"H-Hi," he stammers.

 

"Stiles." She feels the corner of her lips pull up higher as she processes the fact that Stiles is at her front door at 11 in the morning. "Hi." The smile is slowly taking over her face and she worries for a wild second about scaring him with a grin too wide. But his own smile seems to be growing to slowly match hers.

 

They stand there for about 18 seconds staring at one another unsure of what to say as is apparently their tradition, before Stiles breaks the silence. 

 

"I brought coffee," he announces awkwardly holding the tray higher, "and breakfast," he continues and raising his other arm. "Which is sort of useless now because you probably already ate breakfast so you can just say no and I won't feel bad I swear, don't worry it's okay, I'll eat it myself. Dammit, I should've called or texted or stayed ho-"

 

"Stiles!" Lydia yells interrupting. "I haven't had breakfast yet." 

 

The confusion and panic give way to relief which turns into another smile and Lydia feels something squeeze at her heart again. 

 

"Good. Cause I got bagels." 

 

Lydia stands aside as Stiles makes his way inside. She takes the bag and the tray from him.

 

"Did you, um, how did you know?" Lydia asks, and she doesn't have to elaborate because he already knows what she's asking. 

 

"I wish I could say I remembered they're your favorite, but I didn't. I just called Allison and she told me. Which is how I also knew to get your coffee with cream and extra caramel."

 

She wants to be disappointed, but Stiles is at her house with coffee and bagels just for her, and he called Allison to make sure he got her everything she likes, so does it really matter?

 

"Besides, next time, I'll be able to say I remembered," he continues as they make their way into the living room. 

 

_Next time._

 

The smile on her face is so wide, she wonders if her face might split in two. In a moment of foolish bravery, she turns around suddenly and stands on the tip of her toes to plant a kiss on Stiles' cheek. He's taller than she anticipates and she reaches his jaw instead. He's surprised by her sudden attack and he has to steady himself. His hands end up on her elbows in a miserable attempt to regain his footing. They're both blushing. 

 

"What was that for?" Stiles asks in a  voice barely above a whisper. He can't seem to break eye contact, and neither can she. They don't move. 

 

"Just, because. But mostly thank you," she replies worried she might freak him out.

 

He smiles in return and she feels herself relax. Neither seems to want to move. She can feel Stiles' fingers tugging gently at the ends of her long hair. It feels so impossibly good, but suddenly she is reminded that this is a boy who up until three days ago wanted nothing to so with her, so she would do her well not to overestimate him. She takes a step back and clears her throat, then turns to put the food on the table.

 

"Weird question, but is this mine?" Stiles asks a moment later pointing at her hoodie.

 

Lydia's startled for a second and her eyes widen. She looks like a deer caught in headlights. 

 

"Yes." Her voice is small as she hands him his coffee. "How'd you know?"

 

"I don't know. It looks a little familiar for some reason. Also, I would buy it if I saw it in a shop right now." 

 

"Oh." She doesn't know how to react. "Do you want it back?" She starts undoing the zipper.

 

"Oh my god, no!" Stiles practically yells lunging to put his hand on hers to get her to stop. "That's not what I meant," he chuckles and his hand lingers a second longer than necessary. 

 

Lydia moves to sit on the couch and Stiles follow suit, taking a seat opposite her on the armchair.

 

"So did I give it to you, or did I forget here...?"

 

She's relieved by his question. he wants memories. So she'll gladly give him some. 

 

She takes out one of the bagels from the bag and hands it to him. She starts munching on the other.

 

"You gave it to me. You, um, didn't explicitly tell me I could keep it, but you never asked for it back and I never got around to returning it," she continues and smiles sheepishly. 

 

Stiles raises his eyebrows seemingly amused, chewing on his bagel. 

 

"It was a couple of months before your accident," she explains. "We were on a school trip. Well, you and Scott and Isaac were on a school trip,  Allison and I were just freakishly stalking you guys." She rolls her eyes and Stiles lets out a chuckle. He has a sort of glow in his eyes and Lydia can tell he's trying to place the memory somewhere in that fascinating brain of his.

 

"Really?" He asks amusement still evident in his voice.

 

"Yeah, well, Scott was injured and Allison wanted to make sure he was okay. Mind you, they were already broken up at the time, but I told you their relationship is way too complicated to understand. Anyway we followed you guys in Allison's car until you called me to update us." 

 

"Update you?"

 

"Yep, because apparently you knew we were following you all along. We just thought we were being so sneaky."

 

He chuckles again.

 

"After that things started to get complicated. Allison managed to fix up Scott's wound, but her tank was empty so we rode on the bus with you guys. We stayed at some creepy motel and all sorts of weird shit started to go down." She takes another bite of her bagel. "Isaac spent the night holed up under his bed, Boyd tried to drown himself, Ethan - one of the twins - tried to saw himself in half. The worst though, was Scott." She can't help the tears that threaten to come out as she remembers that night. It was hell and not much else.

 

"Why, what'd he do?"

 

"Well, we figured out something was manipulating our friends and noticed that the only thing to snap them out of their trance was heat. So we used some flares for that. Only when we went back to get one for Scott, he had beat us to it. We found him standing in a pool of gasoline with a lit flare in his hand, mumbling about how nothing was worth it." A tear rolls down her cheek but she quickly wipes it away. That was one of the worst days of her life. She looks at Stiles and notices his red-rimmed eyes. He might not remember them, but he still cares. 

 

"How'd we get him to snap out of it?"

 

"We didn't. You did. I stood frozen unable to do anything. Allison tried to talk to him but he wouldn't listen. He only responded to you. You told him how much you loved him and that you guys were there for each other no matter what. You reminded him how you were brothers. And then you did the single most idiotic thing on record. You stepped into the puddle with him." She stops, taking another breath, and she can't keep her voice from shaking. She still wakes up in the middle of the night swearing she can smell gasoline. When Stiles had stepped into that puddle, she'd felt her heart break into a million pieces. If anything happened to him...

 

"He snapped out of it after that?" Stiles asks, his voice sad.

 

"You, um, took the flare out of his hand and threw it away. You almost died anyway when it rolled right back to where the puddle started, but I pushed you out of the way in time." Her voice breaks but then she clears her throat and pulls herself together. No need for a breakdown. Stiles is safe. He's alive. And he's looking at her like she's the most amazing thing ever. "I couldn't lose you," she tries to explain, suddenly uncomfortable with his eyes on her. "Neither of you."

 

"Thanks," Stiles lets out gently.  

 

She wipes her eyes and eats the last of her bagel. "In the end, we learned the Darach was behind it. We couldn't go back to our rooms after that. We were too on edge, and we didn't want to have to separate, so we spent the night in the school bus. It was cold so you gave me your hoodie." She smiles at the memory.

 

Stiles is silent for a minute before he starts again. "Hey, Lydia? She looks up at him. "What did the Darach look like?" When she only raises her eyebrows he continues. "I just keep having these dreams, nightmares really, with all sorts of weird distorted creatures chasing me down. Sometimes they're you guys, and other times they're real evil, but they're always scary." 

 

He sounds like a little child and Lydia fights he urge to go to him wrap her arms around him. He's having nightmares about his friends killing him. She would too, if she just found out her friends were mythological creatures she knew nothing about. That's just the problem though. Stiles knows nothing about them aside from what they are. Which is probably why he's picturing all sorts of weird monsters. And suddenly Lydia knows what to do.

 

"You don't have any plans for the rest of the day, do you?" Lydia asks and Stiles looks up at her confused. 

 

"I was gonna see if you wanted to go somewhere but if you're busy..."

 

"No, no, not at all," Lydia gets out hurriedly. "I just have an idea what we can do. Do you mind waiting for me while I hop in the shower real quick?"

 

"Not at all," Stiles says smiling.

 

Lydia hands him the TV controller and starts heading up the stairs. "I won't be long. Make yourself at home!" She yells and Stiles smiles to himself.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

"What is this place?" Stiles asks getting out of the jeep. Lydia wouldn't tell him where they were going, she just kept throwing directions at him.

 

"Derek's old home," Lydia explains hopping out of the jeep. Stiles is there to help her regain her footing, and she sends him a shy smile when her hand ends up in his. He should maybe let go of her hand but he doesn't want to. She doesn't seem too keen on letting go either.

 

"Did you bring me here to rape me?" He asks because he doesn't have a filter and they're in the middle of the woods by some creepy half burned house that looks haunted by some seriously messed up ghosts.

 

"Oh my god," Lydia lets out chuckling and Stiles' grin is back on his face.

 

He's about to get a proper grip on her hand when they hear the sound of an engine approaching. Lydia lets go and Stiles feels his world darken just a little. Not for the first time, he wonders how this one girl can have so much effect on him.

 

He shakes the thought out of his head and turns to look at the car parking next to his jeep. Scott, Allison, Isaac and Derek get out and Stiles already feels a little better.

 

"Hey guys," Scott says approaching them.

 

"Heard you had a nice breakfast," Isaac teases winking at Lydia who blushes furiously. Stiles has the sudden urge to look at his feet. Scott and Allison snicker and Derek rolls his eyes. 

 

"What are we doing here?" Derek asks, business as usual. 

 

Everyone turns to look at Lydia. She's the one who planned this.

 

"Um, I called you guys here because I think we should show our true selves to Stiles," she explains. The confused looks she gets don't really surprise her. "We were talking this morning," she tries again, "and I realized Stiles has no idea what you guys look like when you've turned, or how my powers work, or about the Argents' code. He knows only what the Sheriff has told him, and let's face it, he was kept in the dark for so long he literally doesn't know the half of it. And I mean, if I were Stiles and I knew my friends grew fangs every now and then, I would imagine all kinds of weird shit until I actually saw them transform."

 

Recognition finally dawns on everyone. Scott nods and Allison smiles a little. Derek doesn't even blink which usually means he's in. 

 

Stiles just wants to hug Lydia because this is the most perfect thing he could've asked for without actually asking. He's been itching to learn more about them ever since his dad told him everything. He's also relieved Lydia didn't tell them about the nightmares. He looks at her and she sends a small smile his way. He wonders again how this girl understands him so well. 

 

"So what do we do?" Isaac asks and Stiles snaps out of his thoughts and turns away from Lydia. "Do we just transform?"

 

"I guess," Lydia says. "I mean I brought you guys here because I thought we could also tell him about everything that happened from the very beginning. Then you guys can show him your freaky hairy selves, Allison will explain to him about her family, and I'll try to explain what my powers entail, or the little I understand about them myself."

 

"Sounds fair," Scott says smiling. Allison moves back to the car. "Where do we start?"

 

Allison comes back with her bow and a blanket. She drops the bow by a big tree and lays the blanket on the ground. "We start by getting comfortable," she says moving to sit down.

 

Everyone follows suit. Stiles ends up sitting his back to the trunk, Lydia right by his side. They're so close their arms are touching and he wouldn't have it any other way. He still can't explain the relief he feels whenever she's next to him, but he's decided to stop questioning it. Whatever this girl is to him, she seems to be doing something right. He's comfortable when he's with her, and happy and relieved and he can almost believe that he's known her his whole life. So he might as well enjoy it. 

 

He looks at her while everyone settles around them. She's busy fixing up the blanket and Stiles can't stop himself from taking her hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze. Lydia looks at him, startled, but she relaxes visibly when she notices the smile on his face. She returns both smile and squeeze, and when she lets go of his hand, she keeps hers so close to his their knuckles are touching. Stiles can't remember feeling so good in a long time.

 

\-------------------------------------

 

They've been at it for over an hour now, and Lydia hasn't felt so relaxed in a really long time. Not since before Stiles' accident.

 

They're still seated on the forest ground, with Scott talking animatedly. Lydia has long given up on pretending she doesn't want to sit by Stiles, and her head has fallen on his shoulder more than once. She's sitting straighter now, but their arms are almost linked, Stiles' fingers ghosting over Lydia's wrist and it's like a million butterflies have taken residence in her stomach.

 

They've already covered almost everything, and Lydia was surprised to hear some stuff she didn't even know herself, like the fact that Stiles had stayed at the hospital the entire time she was there after Peter bit her, or how Stiles was actually gonna lose his virginity to Heather the night she was taken. She feels an inexplicable flush at the first revelation, and an inexplicable jealousy at the second.

 

Scott, Isaac and Derek all transformed earlier, Allison gave Stiles a crash course on the Argents, and Lydia shared her limited knowledge on banshees.

 

They're down to the last few hours before Stiles' accident, and Scott is explaining all about the sacrifices. Lydia's not really listening, her mind assaulted with memories of dimly lit locker rooms and stolen kisses on dirty floors. She can't stop thinking about soft lips on hers and heavy eyes peeking at her through long eyelashes. What she wouldn't give to go back to that day.

 

"So the tether was supposed to be able to pull you back from the darkness. And Deaton insisted it be someone you're connected to on a deeper level," Scott continues explaining, snapping Lydia back to reality. "Deaton was mine, Allison's was Isaac, and yours was Lyds."

 

Lydia takes a peek at Stiles. A look of recognition flashes through his eyes.

 

"This is why we were slightly surprised when you mentioned the tether thing yesterday," she says in a low voice.

 

"We think maybe the tether thing is not exclusive to the sacrifice ritual," Scott explains. "Isaac has pulled Allison out of some dark thoughts more than once already, and then you mentioned the pull you felt towards us, so we've seen manifest itself on more than one occasion."

 

"That makes a lot of sense, actually," Stiles says. "And honestly, no offence to anyone but the pull towards Lydia is the strongest, so you're probably right."

 

Stiles' fingers push harder on Lydia's wrist and she flushes against her will.

 

"Can't say I'm really surprised," Isaac mutters earning himself an elbow in the ribs from Allison.

 

"Anyway, as we've said, the ritual worked. We died and came back with the location of the Nemeton. You were actually on your way there when you had the accident."

 

The silence hangs heavy with sadness. Lydia and Scott share a look. She knows what he's not saying out loud. _You were actually on your way there when we lost you._ Almost lost him, Lydia has to remind herself, because Stiles is next to her and the feel of his knuckles bumping hers is too real for it to be a dream.

 

"Well, I'm starving," Allison announces suddenly. "Who's up for lunch?"

 

\-----------------------------------------------

 

Half an hour later, Stiles finds himself tucked into a corner booth at the local diner with Lydia by his side, Allison and Scott sharing the opposing bench.

 

Derek decided not to go with them as he had some stuff to do with Chris and was gonna try to catch Cora on Skype after. Isaac was all down for lunch until he heard the word Cora at which point his whole demeanor changed and he suddenly felt it was necessary for him to go with Derek on his errand. No one really commented on that, so Stiles assumed no one noticed. Scott gave Derek his keys and he and Allison rode in with him and Lydia.

 

"So this was our favorite hangout?" Stiles asks taking a sip from his soda.

 

"For food? Absolutely," Allison replies smiling. "You'll see, they have the best curly fries."

 

"They're actually your favorite thing on the menu," Lydia adds.

 

"Don't pretend like they're not yours, too!" Allison throws at Lydia.

 

"This is actually where we discovered that Allison and Lydia eat actual greasy food like the rest of humanity," Scott says and Stiles can't help but chuckle.

 

"Hey, just because you stuff your face any chance you get, doesn't mean the rest of humanity has to do it as well," Lydia retorts instantly and Scott laughs.

 

"Just so you know, you're not missing on anything," Allison says to Stiles. "This is the exact same argument they have literally every time we're here."

 

"And when was the last time we were here?" Stiles asks.

 

"I think it was a week before your accident," Lydia says. "It was after that Lacrosse game against Eastwood, right?" She asks turning to Scott and Allison.

 

"Yeah, yeah, I'm pretty sure that was it." Scott agrees.

 

"You kicked ass in that by the way," Lydia says proudly looking at Stiles.

 

"In what, the Lacrosse game?"

 

"Yep. You were so good, you actually scored the winning shot," she continues, her pride showing.

 

Stiles' grin grows bigger and he reaches for her hand under the table. He links his fingers through hers and he feels 12 again. She doesn't let go and he can barely contain himself.

 

"Here we are," the waitress says coming out of nowhere and Stiles can barely stop himself from jumping off his seat. He doesn't let go of Lydia.

 

The waitress doesn't even ask who ordered what, and instead starts laying out the plates for them. They obviously come here a lot more than he imagines.

 

He reluctantly lets go of Lydia's hand when it's time to eat, but his bitterness only lasts a few second because damn this place really does have the best curly fries.

They all dig into their food like there's no tomorrow, and Stiles finds himself wishing for more days like this. He really, really, really likes his friends. Fangs and hunting bows and all. His BBQ-bacon burger is also probably the best he's had in his entire life. And the shake. And Lydia's mushroom 'n swiss burger. And Scott's chili cheese fries.

 

They shares desert after that and hang out at the diner for a couple of hours, talking like they've been friends forever, and Stiles has to remind himself that they have been friends forever, he just happened to forget.

 

He links his fingers back with Lydia's after they're done eating, this time for all the world to see. He doesn't care. Scott and Allison only act surprised for a moment before the smiles return to their faces, wider than before, and they continue their story about that horrific night at the school when Peter had them cornered in until dawn.

 

He can't explain it, maybe it's the tether thing, but any form of contact with Lydia makes him feel instantly better. That is the excuse he'll give for his sudden boldness anyway.

 

She doesn't seem to mind it either, and he can feel her fingers drawing nameless shapes in his palm.

 

They get up to leave around 5, and Stiles almost asks them to stay longer. He chickens out at the last second though because he doesn't wanna push his luck.

 

They drive Allison home first, and then Stiles finds himself in Lydia's driveway. Scott's house is closer to his, so he'll be dropping him off last. Stiles gets out of the car and walks Lydia up to her door. They're both nervous and fidgety and Stiles wonders if he'll ever get used to feeling this way.

 

"So, um, sorry for showing up out of nowhere on your doorstep today," he stammers.

 

"Don't be," Lydia replies immediately. "I had a really good time." She's looking at him nervously with a hesitant smile on her face.

 

"I guess, um, I'll see you tomorrow." He wants to kiss her. Like actually really kiss her. But Scott is watching. And should he really be kissing a girl he's met less than a week ago?

 

Lydia doesn't allow him more time to wonder what he should do and instead gets on her tiptoes and plants a kiss at the corner of his mouth. Stiles smiles dumbly at her as she takes out her keys.

 

"Call me," she whispers as she opens her door.

 

Stiles starts to back off her porch, the stupid grin taking over his face. Their eyes meet and it's all he can do not to go back and kiss her properly. "Bye," he says instead, waving at her and backing off.

 

"Bye," Lydia replies feeling giddy.

 

Stiles and Scott wave at Lydia once more when Stiles gets into his car.

 

"Smooth," Scott teases and Stiles rolls his eyes before he drives off.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things just got real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 5am. I re-wrote the last 2000 words or so twice tonight. They got deleted the first time and I couldn't recover the file. So please excuse any mistakes you find. Better late than never. Enjoy!

Melissa is just returning from her shift when Stiles drops Scott off. They bump into each other in the driveway and Stiles can tell Melissa has to physically stop herself from running over to him. He thinks he likes her that much more for it. He wonders how big a role she played in his life, and given the massive amount of time he and Scott supposedly spent together, he thinks maybe she was like a second mother to him, something that is not hard to imagine at all.

 

After she restrains herself, Melissa gives Scott a kiss and asks Stiles to stay over for dinner. She mentions she's making lasagna, and Stiles swears he sees her face fall a little when it doesn't get a reaction out of him. She goes into the house and Scott explains to him that he used to say Melissa made the world's best lasagna. 

 

Stiles is nothing if not curious and so he decides to stay. 

 

Isaac shows up fifteen minutes later. He can barely contain the grin on his face and Stiles wonders if this is typical Isaac behavior. Scott seems to be as puzzled about it as he is, so he guesses it's not.

 

His dad is there about an hour later, and the way he seems to know his way so well around the kitchen, Stiles  knows this is the not the first time they've done this. Or the second. He wishes he can remember, but then his dad bumps his head into the cupboard - he really is his father's son - and Scott snickers as he chops some carrots on the island next to Stiles and Melissa laughs as she presses some frozen peas to his dad's head and Stiles can't help the smile that takes over his face. These people are his family. He doesn't remember it, but he knows it, and he sure as hell wants to be around them as long as possible. 

 

He wishes Lydia was here. It doesn't make sense but that doesn't make it any less true.

 

The smile on his face turns into a stupid grin as he remembers the glint in her eyes when he held her hand at the diner and the blush on her face when she kissed him goodbye. He's thinking of red hair and green eyes and freckles when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. He's still smiling when he reads the text.

 

_You forgot your jacket. I think you should claim this one back, otherwise I'm gonna keep it too._

 

Right. The jacket he gave her when they were by Derek's house in the woods. She got cold and he happened to have it in his car. His heart speeds up and his grin widens because it's as if she heard him thinking about her. 

 

_I was just thinking about you. I kinda miss you._

 

Shit shit shit shit. Did he really just send her that? He's barely known this girl for a week. He knows she likes him, she's made it clear, but that doesn't mean it won't probably freak her out.

 

He can hear everyone still laughing around him and he steps out of the kitchen for a second. His phone buzzes a minute later and it feels like the longest sixty seconds of his life. 

 

_Where are you?_

 

His heart drops. He shouldn't have sent her that text. What was he thinking? 

 

_Dinner at Scott's._

 

He sends the message then quickly types up another one.

 

_Please ignore my first text. It was a spur of the moment thing and I didn't really think it through._

 

He presses the send button just as he receives a reply from her and he knows she sent it before she read his last reply. 

 

_I wish I was there. I miss you too._

He stares at the message unsure of what to do. Shit. How did he manage to put his foot in his mouth over fifty times in less than three minutes? He's contemplating banging his head against the wall when his phone vibrates again. He looks at the screen to see Lydia calling.

 

His eyes widen and he lets out an inhuman noise as he holds the phone as away from him as possible.

 

Why is she calling?!

 

He takes a deep breath and tries to calm his nerves. He can't find out unless he answers. So he does. 

 

"Hello." He tries to go for calm and contained but he's pretty sure the squeak he lets out isn't associated with any of these words.

 

"Hi." Her voice sounds tiny and he can't explain the effect it has on him. He somehow misses her even more. 

 

"Hi," he says again. Is there a hole nearby where he can bury himself? 

 

"Hi," she repeats and the nervousness in her voice somehow calms him down. 

 

"You said that already," he manages to let out and they both chuckle. He's standing by the window fiddling with the curtains. 

 

"Sorry," she lets out. They're both quiet for a second yet somehow it doesn't feel uncomfortable. "Sorry for calling, I, um, just- I wanted to, um- I don't actually know why I'm calling." She sounds slightly frustrated. 

 

Stiles doesn't know how to react to that but he doesn't have time to think of a response because she finally powers through. 

 

"Wait, I do know why I'm calling. I don't want to ignore your first text."

 

Stiles can't help the sigh of relief that escapes him. "Good, cause I don't want you to ignore it either."

 

"Good," she says on the other line and he can hear the smile in her voice. 

 

He's startled out of his trance by the sound of footsteps behind him and he turns to see Scott standing there.

 

"Sorry, I was just checking up on you." 

 

"I'm fine," Stiles says failing to hide his smile. "I'll be there in a sec."

 

"Say hi to Lydia for me," Scott says before turning around and walking back into the kitchen and Stiles stands there opening and closing his mouth like a fish a few times.

 

Lydia seems to have heard all that and she knows exactly what he's thinking. 

 

"Don't try to understand how he knows. He just always knows," she explains. 

 

Stiles chuckles. He can imagine Lydia rolling her eyes at Scott. 

 

"I kinda wish you were here, too," he says. He nearly tears the stupid curtains apart. 

 

"Only kinda?" 

 

Stiles chuckles again but he doesn't say anything.

 

"Do you, um, do you wanna do something tomorrow?" She asks timidly. "It doesn't have to be just us. We can try to recreate another one of those memories you want to learn about." 

 

"Definitely," Stiles replies smiling. If there's anything he knows he wants, it's to be with Lydia every moment he can. 

 

"Great. I'll plan something." Her voice sounds relieved. "Will you call me tomorrow when you're up?"

 

"Are you sure you want that? I tend to wake up pretty early."

 

"I'm sure," she insists and Stiles hears the curtain make a small tearing sound under his fingers. His eyes widen and he tries to hide the small tear in the folds before he steps away from the sensitive fabric. He looks around and steps a little further back when he's sure no one's here to witness his crime. "I'll let you go back to your dinner. If Melissa's making lasagna tell her to save me a piece." Now he definitely wants to try her lasagna.

 

"I will. I'll see you tomorrow, Lydia."

 

"Bye." 

 

She hangs up before he can say anything else and it takes him a minute to stop staring at his phone. He tries to readjust his face as he walks back into the kitchen but a grin seems to have permanently taken residence there and he can't seem to do anything about it. 

 

Scott gets off his phone just as he is walking in and maybe it's his imagination but he thinks he sees him nod at Melissa who nods back. 

 

"And that would be the Lydia look," Isaac comments nodding his way and snapping him out of his trance.

 

"And that would be your 'I'm an idiot' look. No wait, that's just your face," Stiles replies, not missing a beat. He doesn't know where it comes from, but it seems like such a natural response and somehow he knows this is how they used to interact. Scott barks out a laugh and his dad tries to hide his own laugh behind a snort.

 

"Boys," Melissa warns when Isaac flips him the bird, but even she can barely contain her grin.

 

\-------------------------------------

 

She stands in the middle of her room for a few minutes with the biggest smile on her face. Did that really just happen?

 

She'd been sitting in her room only a few minutes ago trying so hard to convince herself not to cave in and text him, but she couldn't stop thinking about him. So she found an excuse to do it and before she knew it she had hit the send button. One harmless little message won't hurt anyone.

 

His reply caught her so off guard, she didn't really know what she sent back. Then came that text telling her to ignore what he'd sent and she couldn't stop herself from calling because was he kidding? He couldn't say something like that and then expect her to let it go.

 

She contemplated banging her head against the wall because why was she even calling but he answered before she had a chance to hang up and the sound of his voice washed over her like a tidal wave of relief. How it took her so long to realize just how much she cared about him, she'll never understand. She likes to think of herself as smart but she knows when it comes to Stiles she's all kinds of stupid.

 

Their conversation was awkward and brief and just about the best phone call she's had in her entire life.

 

She hears the sound of an engine outside on the street and she snaps out of her Stiles-induced daze. She needs to stop thinking about him. This is getting ridiculous and borderline crazy. But it's not like she has anything to occupy her mind with. Her mom's left on another of her business trips last night, and by business trips she means a ten-day-vacation at boyfriend number four's beach house. She doesn't even remember the last time her dad was here. 

 

Thoughts of her parents are enough to sober her out of her dreamlike state and almost drag her down into one of self-pity. But she won't let them. She's been on her own way too long to let it get to her now. She resigns herself to a night in and is about to change into some sweats when she hears the door unlock.

 

"Lyds?" She hears Allison's muffled voice through her bedroom door. What is she doing here?

 

The key was Stiles' idea. Before his accident. When they officially accepted themselves as a bonafide pack, he thought they should all make copies of their house keys, that way, in case of emergencies, they all have safe places to fall back on. The parents were more than okay with this as long as boundaries were maintained.

 

"Allison?" Lydia asks opening her bedroom door to see Allison at the bottom of the stairs. "Not that I'm not ecstatic, but what are you doing here?" 

 

"Scott called. It's lasagna night." Allison is looking at her like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Grab a jacket, come on."

 

"But..."

 

"But what?"

 

"Stiles is there." 

 

"And that would be problematic because...?" 

 

Normally she would flip at Allison's patronizing tone, but her stomach's doing weird things and the thought of seeing Stiles is making her feel dizzy. 

 

"I guess it's not," she answers instead. 

 

"I'll be in the car," Allison says before heading for the door. "And I'm not even going to ask how you know Stiles is there," she shouts on her way out and Lydia blushes despite herself. 

 

She grabs his jacket off her bed and follows Allison to her car. Anything beats staying home alone. 

 

\-------------------------------------

 

Stiles is staring at the table wondering why there are so many plates set up when he hears someone open the door.

 

"Hellooo."

 

He recognizes Allison's voice. His heart starts hammering in his chest because somehow he knows without seeing her that she's with Allison. He looks at Scott for a moment is not surprised to find a sly smile on his face and in that moment he remembers exactly why he loves his best friend so much.

 

"In here!" Scott yells back and suddenly Stiles feels as nervous as can be which is ridiculous because he was with Lydia barely 2 hours ago. Why would it be any different now? Probably because in between then and now they had a very awkward and revealing exchange. But that should make things better for them, right?

 

Still, no matter how much he tells himself that, he can't stop fidgeting and suddenly he doesn't know what to do with his hands and _Jesus, why do people need hands anyway?_

 

He's in between stuffing one hand in his pocket and leaning on a chair with the other when Allison walks in with Lydia in tow and suddenly he can't contain the smile on his face. Lydia's here. And she looks like the most beautiful thing ever in clothes too big - his jacket - and that wide smile and blush on her cheeks. He can't stop staring at her and it doesn't help that she doesn't seem to want to look anywhere other than at him.

 

Thirty seconds into their staring contest Allison clears her throat. They both look away in time to see her pull Scott by his hand and outside the room. "I think I heard your mom calling," Stiles hears her say and he smiles to himself because seriously, his friends are the best ever. 

 

He looks over at Lydia who seems to find Allison's not-so-subtle attempt at giving them a few moments alone just as amusing. 

 

"Hi," Stiles says when Lydia catches his eye. He feels that same overwhelming pride when she chuckles. 

 

"Hi," she replies. "I hope you don't mind that we're here because we were together just a few hours ago but Melissa's lasagna is kind of a big deal..." 

 

"No, no, not at all," Stiles is fast to reply. "I'm actually really glad you're here." He doesn't feel as nervous about admitting it anymore. "I did mean it when I said I wished you were here." 

 

Lydia smiles and her cheeks burn darker as she approaches him. "Wish granted," she whispers before linking her fingers with his. 

 

They stand there staring at each other for a few moments and Stiles thinks about leaning in and stealing a kiss but they're interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming and are quick to let go. They're comfortable acting however they want when it's just Allison and Scott, but with the parental units around, it's better to keep things quiet until they themselves figure out what they are.

 

"Dinner's up," Isaac announces barging into the room with what looks like the most delicious lasagna Stiles has ever seen. He's torn between laughing at Isaac's powder blue apron - complete with white lace - and drooling at the delicious smell of cheese and herbs. 

 

"Hi sweetie," Melissa says smiling as she approaches Lydia and Stiles's attention is momentarily claimed by the two of them. Melissa envelops Lydia in a hug and Stiles wonders at how this tiny woman can hold so much motherly affection in her. 

 

His dad is quick to follow and he leads Lydia a bit farther away from everyone. "I hear they're gone again. You know, despite everything you can still come to ours if you want." 

 

He notices Allison following them too and Stiles has to strain his ears to hear what she says. She's spending the night at Lydia's is what he manages to understand but even then he can't make much sense of it. Why would his father know/care if Allison's staying over at Lydia's? Still, it tugs at his heart a little when he hears Lydia whisper a thank you. His dad smiles sadly as he kisses her head.

 

Stiles might not remember much but he knows his dad well enough to know that he only acts this way around family. Suddenly, seeing the way Allison and Lydia hang on either side of his dad, he understands more than ever the importance of his pack. He still has the distinct feeling that he's missing something, but it can wait. 

 

"Chris and Derek not coming?" Melissa asks frowning a little as everyone settles into place. 

 

"Derek said to start without him, he'll drop by later, and dad thought it a good time to pay Gerard a visit," Allison replies. 

 

Stiles stands still, momentarily trying to figure out where to sit. He's wondering if he should just slide down into the nearest seat when he notices Scott nodding towards the chair facing his. Across from Scott and next to Lydia. Of course that would be where he used to sit.

 

Melissa sends a plate with a large piece of lasagna his way and he digs in. He wants to cry because how could anyone forget the taste of something so delicious. 

 

His leg brushes Lydia's every once in a while and Isaac has a nasty habit of talking with his mouth full. Stiles thinks he might want to do this every night now. 

 

\-------------------------------------

 

They're still seated at the table eating desert - which translates to Lydia and Stiles sharing Reese's - when they hear the door unlock. Everyone stops what they're doing for a second before they all seem to simultaneously remember it's probably Derek. Lydia wants to laugh at the level of paranoia they have all collectively reached but she thinks back on it when she remembers their track record.

 

She hears footsteps and waits for Derek to walk in. Instead, she is treated to straight long hair, combat boots and a sneaky smile. 

 

Cora.

 

Lydia is the first to admit she did not really like Cora when she first met her. No one can blame her really, the girl showed up out of nowhere to remind them of their shortcomings as a pack over and over again. It did not help that she seemed to get on particularly well with Stiles, so much so that for a time Lydia believed they were hooking up. She's still not sure they weren't. But then she got to know Cora. She saw Cora react to Boyd's death. She saw Cora jump in at the opportunity to help. She saw Cora come back to town because Lydia screamed. And she liked Cora. 

 

Which is why she can't stop herself from jumping off her chair and running to engulf the girl into a big hug. She doesn't care that Cora is a person that doesn't like to be touched a lot, or that she herself has a reputation to uphold. She missed Cora. 

 

She feels Allison join them a second later and Cora laugh despite herself as the three girls have a hard time finding their balance.

 

"Alright, alright, I missed you guys too," Cora gets out as she chuckles. 

 

Lydia and Allison back off but Scott is there to scoop Cora into another hug. He lifts her off the ground and she lets out such a high pitched shriek Lydia has to blink twice to make sure the feminine sound came out of Cora.

 

Lydia backs away a little to allow others room too. She looks over at Stiles. He's standing up but hasn't moved away from his seat as he watches the scene unfold in front of him. His eyes move to Lydia, a little scared but mostly unsure, and Lydia knows what he's asking. 

 

It's okay, she mouthes and Stiles starts walking her way. He automatically links his fingers with hers when he's next to her. She squeezes his hand before he lets go just as Cora catches sight of him. Her eyes go wide for a second and she suddenly looks more nervous than Lydia has ever seen her.  

 

Stiles takes a step forward and Lydia almost allows herself to feel the ache of seeing Stiles step away from her. She's trying really hard not to think about what he and Cora may or may not have had.

 

"Hi," Cora says nervously. She wipes her hands on her dark jeans.

 

"Hi," Stiles replies and Lydia doesn't have to look at him to know he's smiling. She can hear it in his voice and it makes her happy and sad all at the same time. 

 

"I'm-" Cora starts to say.

 

"Cora, I know," Stiles interrupts. "You're in a lot of pictures," he continues trying to explain. 

 

"Oh," Cora laughs nervously.

 

They're quiet for a second and Lydia notices Derek standing by the door watching the exchange with the rest of them.

 

"I'm sorry, this is so weird, I haven't met people with memory loss before," Cora lets out suddenly and Lydia can feel everyone stop breathing for a second. 

 

Stiles chuckles and everyone lets out a collective breath.

 

"I wanna tell you I missed you but that's weird because you don't remember me and that might freak you out. Does it freak you out?" The honesty in Cora's voice is almost heartbreaking and Lydia has never envied Cora more because here she was, five seconds in, and already she's told Stiles everything Lydia has been thinking for the past weeks.

 

"It's kinda weird," Stiles admits and Cora's smile falters for a second. "But it's okay, I have a feeling I would've missed you too if I remembered you."

 

The smile is back on Cora's face and Stiles' own smile is growing. 

 

Lydia may have spoken too soon when she said that was the most she'd envied her.

 

\-------------------------------------

 

After about an hour sitting in the vicinity of Cora, Stiles decides he really likes her. 

 

At one point, he remembers Lydia telling him how there was maybe something going on between him a the younger Hale, but somehow, despite not remembering, he knows it's not true. Don't get him wrong, Cora's a knockout. She could even pass for Lara Croft if she just braids her hair. And from the little he's spent with her, he knows she's funny and genuine, and to top it off, she seems to know exactly what to say to put Isaac back in his place. But she's no Lydia. And besides, Stiles has always liked Mary Jane better. 

 

They're all gathered in the living room now, Cora telling them about her time away from Beacon Hills. She doesn't know if she's staying permanently this time, but she's not leaving anytime soon anyway. Stiles doesn't miss the hopeful look on Isaac's face and he wonders for a second how everyone seems to think Allison and Isaac have a thing going when it's so clear Cora is the only thing on Isaac's mind. He knows it's probably cause he's Allison's emotional tether or whatever but Deaton is Scott's connection to this world and they're not exactly having the romance of the century, are they?

 

He feels Lydia shift on the couch beside him and it pulls him out of his thoughts. He turns to look at her but she doesn't return the favor. Instead, her eyes stay focused on Cora. There's a small smile on her lips, but Stiles doesn't miss the pain that flashes in her eyes for a second. He wants to put his arm around her, but they're not there yet. When he did it the last time, it was hesitant and awkward and he could blame it on the fact that they were sleepy and hopped up on sugar. But now the whole pack is here - Chris made it back to the McCall's place a few minutes ago - and he really doesn't want to be subjected to questions he doesn't have the answers to. He likes Lydia, yes, and he has a constant need to be around her, but he doesn't know anything beyond that. 

 

He settles on moving closer to her instead and he feels her relax slightly when their arms touch. He relaxes as well, loving how easily they can take strength in each other. 

 

Cora's just agreed to spend the night with the girls when he feels Lydia flinch beside him. He turns to look at her and is met with wide frightened eyes. Her lower lip is quivering and she's got a blank look in her eyes.

 

"Lydia?" He asks, effectively turning everyone's attention to her. He puts his hand on her arm and almost pulls it back when he feels the cold skin. 

 

"S- Scott," Lydia stutters when her eyes meet the young alpha's. She nods slightly and Scott's eyes widen in understanding. Stiles doesn't remember ever feeling so afraid. 

 

"Someone's dead," Scott whispers and Stiles feels a shiver run through his body. "COVER YOUR EARS!" Scott orders just as Stiles feels Lydia's body spasm next to his. 

 

He looks at her in time to see her open her mouth wider than anyone has any reason to. He covers his ears just in time but that in no way lessens the impact of her ear splitting wail. She looks so anguished and in pain and it takes all of Stiles' willpower not to uncover his ears and take her in his arms. The blank look in her eyes is what scares him the most. 

 

She's breathing hard when she stops screaming and Stiles catches her in time before she collapses on the ground. He feels her limbs go weak and he knows his arms are the only thing keeping her from falling. 

 

"Lyd- Lydia? Lyds?" He mutters frantically trying to feel for a pulse as he holds her up in his arms.

 

Allison is by their side in a second and Stiles has never been more thankful. The calm look on her face is the only thing that keeps the growing panic he feels from taking over his whole body. 

 

"Lydia, look at me, you're okay," Allison whispers putting her hands on either side of the girl's face and forcing her to look at her. 

 

Stiles watches the scene in front of him with utter disbelief, his arms refusing to pull away from Lydia. 

 

Lydia's unfocused eyes turn to Allison and Stiles feels her skin warming up slightly under his palms. 

 

"It drains her," Allison explains looking at Stiles. He nods in understanding but he doesn't really understand. All he knows is he wants Lydia to get back to normal.

 

Realization flashes in Lydia's eyes and she turns to look at Stiles. She squeezes his hand before linking her fingers through his. Stiles recognizes the reassuring gesture for what it is, and he almost wants to cry because even during her distress, she's still worried about how he might be feeling.

 

"Lyds," Scott whispers kneeling beside Allison on the floor in front of Lydia. "Can you control it yet?" He asks putting his hand on her knee.  

 

Lydia flinches at Scott's touch but turns to look at him and shakes her hand frantically, tears making their way down her face. The blank look is gone, instead replaced with an overwhelming sadness, and Stiles feels his own eyes water. 

 

"I gotta find it," Lydia whispers jumping off the couch suddenly. She's unsteady on her feet, and again, the only thing holding her together is Stiles.

 

She starts walking towards the door with Stiles by her side every step of the way. 

 

"I guess we're going body hunting," Isaac declares taking his coat off the rack. 

 

Stiles stops to pick up his own jacket and Allison takes Lydia to the car.

 

"Don't worry," Scott reassures Melissa. He wipes a few tears off her face and Stiles feels another burst of affection for this woman. "We're just going to find it and come home," he adds before turning to look at the sheriff. "We'll let you know when to come," Scott adds and Stiles knows this is not the first time something like this has happened.

 

Sheriff Stilinski nods and then turns to Stiles. 

 

"I'm not leaving her," Stiles says before he can speak.

 

"Be careful, son," his dad replies patting his back.

 

"I will," Stiles whispers before running out of the house.

 

 Lydia's already started the engine when he jumps into the passenger seat. She's looking at him, and despite the despair in her eyes, Stiles sees gratitude also.

 

Scott and Allison are in the back seat. Cora and Isaac are riding with Derek right behind them. As Lydia pulls out of the driveway and onto the street, Stiles takes a moment to let it all sink in because Isaac had it right the first time: They're going body hunting.

 

Stiles tries to talk to Lydia while she's driving but she doesn't answer. Scott explains to him that she's in a trance and cannot actually hear him. He also learns that she's trying to learn to control her banshee powers, but she's not there yet. She can now feel an episode coming before it does, something that she wasn't able to do before, and she can sometimes take control of her body for a few seconds during the episode, but for the most part she's dead to the world.

 

They come to a stop about 20 minutes into the ride, in the middle of the woods. Lydia gets out of the car and the pack follow her silently.

 

"Please tell me she's not going to the Nemeton," Cora whispers.

 

"Lydia?" Scott tries again, but she's still elsewhere.

 

Lydia walks further into the woods until she's next to a big tree stump. She walks by it until she reaches a wooden trapdoor and opens it. She looks down into the hole and tears flash in her eyes and Stiles somehow knows that she's Lydia again.

 

"No," she whispers covering her mouth with her hands. "No, no, no no no, please no," she mutters frantically and Stiles reaches her in time to stop her from collapsing.

 

She's shaking in his arms and it's all Stiles can do to stop his own body from shivering. He pulls her back and she tries to let go but he tightens his grip on her and she only manages to turn her back to him. She stops squirming and instead rests her arms over his holding his hands with her own and crying into her own chest.

 

"Who is it?" Stiles asks when Scott makes his way with Derek to the trapdoor. He can see the tears that immediately spring to Scott's eyes at the sight of the victim. "Who is it?" He asks again, louder, more forceful and Lydia holds on tighter to him.

 

"Aiden."

 

\-------------------------------------

 

This isn't real. It can't be. Aiden isn't dead. He can't be.

 

She's in her room. Her curtains are purple. Her bed too. There's a stuffed wolf on there. Nothing's changed. Except that Aiden is dead.

 

She doesn't know how long ago she saw his body laying in that dingy hole, but she's in her room now, sitting on her bed. Allison and Cora are with her. They're trying to help her out of her clothes. Apparently they want to help her shower or something.

 

The boys are downstairs.

 

Aiden is dead. No matter how many times she repeats it to herself, it doesn't seem real. She saw him just last week. They went out for coffee.

 

 It's not like that between them. At one point, a long time ago, something could've happened. They'd even hooked up a few times, but when Aiden wanted to move on to a more serious thing, Lydia couldn't. And he knew why. She didn't even have to tell him, he figured out on his own that it was because of Stiles. They'd decided to stay friends after that, and Lydia was surprised that they really did.

 

But they weren't friends anymore because Aiden is dead.

 

Cora's trying to get her jacket off and Lydia sees Aiden's mangled body again. Only this time it's not Aiden. It's Stiles, and the blood covering his neck has stained his grey flannel, and his eyes are lifeless and unseeing.

 

Her eyes go wide and she can barely breathe.

 

"Lyds?" Cora asks kneeling in front of her.

 

She can't breathe.

 

"Lydia, what's wrong?" Cora asks and she can hear the panic in her voice.

 

"St- Stiles, where is he? St- Is he okay?" She manages to say. It feels like there's the sound of a thousand drums in her head.

 

"He's downstairs, Lyds, he's okay," Cora tries to reassure her but somehow her panting worsens.

 

Suddenly, Allison's next to Cora holding Lydia's face in her hands, trying to calm her down.

 

"Breathe, Lydia. Stiles is fine, he's just downstairs," Allison says, and she flashes a reassuring smile like she always does when she's trying to comfort someone.

 

Except that Lydia won't calm down because all she can see is blood staining grey plaid.

 

"Please, Stiles," Lydia pleads between heavy breaths, looking from Cora to Allison.

 

Cora disappears and five seconds later she's back with Stiles. It's five seconds too long.

 

"Lydia," Stiles whispers replacing Allison and holding Lydia's face in his hands.

 

She's so relieved to see him that she wants to cry. She might be already crying.

 

"Lyds, what's wrong," Stiles asks, frantic, and Lydia tries to calm her breathing down because she's worrying him and he looks so tired and so good and she can't believe she wasted 13 years ignoring him.

 

"Nothing," she says sniffling, "I just..." She holds one of his hands to her face. She pushes his hair back with the other. "You're okay."

 

"I'm okay," he repeats, tracing patterns on her cheek with his thumb on one side and playing with her hair on the other and it feels so impossibly good. She wishes he was holding her like that under different circumstances.

 

"I just," she tries again because she wants to justify this momentary hysteria to herself more than anyone else. "I was worried," she tries to say.

 

"I don't want you to worry," Stiles interrupts. "I'm right down the stairs and I'm not leaving. We're all staying here tonight."

 

"But, you're not, you're not ready," she mutters because this boy lost his memory and it's been less than a week since he decided to open up to them again and how can he be okay with all of this?

 

But he's not okay, she can see it in the lines of his face and the creases on his brow.

 

"I'm not leaving," he repeats leaving no room for arguments. She nods because she wants him to stay and she's always been selfish, so so selfish. "The girls are just gonna help you get cleaned up, and then you can come downstairs," he says letting go of her and she feels so cold without his touch but she doesn't say anything. He leans in and kisses her temple before backing out. "I'll see you in a bit," He whispers when he's by the door.

 

Lydia tries to smile but she misses him even before he disappears outside the room and down the stairs.

 

"Come on, Lyds, let's get you cleaned up," Cora says softly holding her hand out to Lydia.

 

She takes a minute to breathe before reaching up and taking Cora's hand. She gives her a hug. She doesn't care that Cora's not the most affectionate of people. Or that she might like Stiles a little more than Lydia would like. She missed her. And she's glad she's back.

 

\-------------------------------------

 

"She okay?" Scott asks when Stiles makes it back into the living room.

 

"Not really," Stiles says sadly. "She seems pretty shaken up."

 

"She knew Aiden the best so that's only natural," Isaac says and Stiles senses that he's trying to reassure him in more ways than one. He likes Isaac a lot more than he likes to admit.

 

"Yeah," he mutters darkly and he feels horrible because the guy is dead but he's still slightly angry that he might have had something with Lydia at one point. "How's Ethan?" He asks looking to distract himself.

 

"They had to sedate him," Scott says. "Danny's with him now."

 

"You know sedatives are not gonna cut it. He's going to want revenge."

 

"We know that, Isaac, but on who?" Derek asks and Stiles is thankful for the distraction.

 

"Could it be the Darach?" Stiles asks trying to remember everything he was told earlier in the day.

 

Was it really only this afternoon that they were sitting in the woods by the tree? It feels like so much longer than this.

 

"Not possible," Derek argues joining Isaac on the couch across from where Stiles and Scott are now seated. "Jennifer was done for the last time we saw her."

 

"Yeah, and even if she did make it out alive, there's no way she would be strong enough by now to pull something like that off," Scott adds. "Besides, she had a flair for the dramatic, and those wounds on Aiden looked more like nothing worse than a werewolf attack."

 

"I can't believe a werewolf attack isn't the worst of our issues anymore," Isaac mutters darkly. "What about Deucalion?"

 

"He'd be an idiot to show his face here again," Derek says.

 

"A new creature then?" Isaac tries.

 

"Or an old one showing his true nature again," Stiles says in a low voice and all eyes turn on him.

 

"Who?" Derek asks and Stiles has a feeling they all know who he's talking about.

 

"Peter."

 

"He's too weak. Betas can almost never kill Alphas," Derek tries to argue.

 

"Almost," Stiles states. "But you did it. You were a Beta when you killed the Alpha. Besides, according to you guys, the twins are not worth much without each other. And you said Peter's been gaining strength lately."

 

"Suppose he did do it. Why?"

 

"Power," Stiles answers like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "He's a recovering werewolf. What's better than an Alpha status to strengthen him both mentally and physically."

 

"Derek, I know that you don't want to hear that your uncle's back to his old ways, but what Stiles is saying makes a lot of sense. Besides, that old hag seemed out of it more often than not," Isaac mutters.

 

"Isaac's right," Scott agrees. "I know we would never think of Stiles' memory loss as a good thing, but this is where we could use it to our advantage. He's the least emotionally involved which makes him the most objective."

 

"He IS emotionally involved, have you seen him with Lydia?"

 

Stiles can't help the blush that creeps up his neck.

 

"You know that's different, Derek," Scott says. "Stiles has always been like that with Lydia. Doesn't mean he can't see the bigger picture. You think of Peter as your uncle first, a werewolf second. Stiles sees him as the guy with the most motive."

 

They're all quiet for a few moments. Stiles knows Derek agrees with them, but that doesn't make it any easier.

 

They decide to drop the subject for now, so he and Scott go to grab some pillows and blankets from one of the spare bedrooms.

 

Scott explains to him that they usually sleep in the upstairs bedrooms, but when one of them is feeling under the weather, they all sleep together in the living room. Pack Pile, Scott calls it. He also shows him where they keep their stash of spare clothes at Lydia's. He changes into a t-shirt and sweats. He's happy to find he has the most spare clothes here.

 

He settles down on the floor next to Scott. They're both leaning on the couch where Derek and Isaac are sprawled.

 

There's old reruns of Lost playing on the TV, and Stiles wants to laugh because he remembers what the flight number of the plane that crashed was - Oceanic flight 815 - but he doesn't remember his best friend.

 

His socks have holes in them so he stuffs his feet under the blankets.

 

The girls come down a while later and Lydia doesn't think twice before plopping down on the floor beside him. She's dressed in another hoodie that looks like his and he wonders how many of them she has.

 

She shares her blanket with him and he immediately links his fingers with hers under the covers. She smiles and leans over to kiss his cheek. She looks tired and beautiful and perfect.

 

Cora lies on her other side and somehow Isaac's hand finds its way into her hair. She doesn't seem to mind and instead looks like she's actually enjoying it.

 

Stiles wonders what Derek would think about his sister and Isaac, but that one's already snoring the night away.

 

Allison's already asleep too, right next to Scott.

 

Stiles scoots down when he feels Lydia do the same. She doesn't let go of his hand but leans her head on Cora's shoulder.

 

Stiles feels his arm brush against Scott's and Lydia's hand in his. It doesn't take him long to fall asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And a new chapter! This one's a bit longer than the ones before, but I don't really watch my word count as I go until it's too late. I was actually planning on writing more, but I guess they'll just have to wait for future chapters. I think some things might happen here that might make you guys like me, but then some things might happen that might make you guys not like me. I just hope you like the chapter anyway!

The first time Stiles wakes up that night, his nostrils are invaded with the smell of peaches and something's tickling his cheek.

 

He opens his eyes to see nothing but the back of Lydia's head. He's lying on his side, and so is she, and if she's any closer they'd be spooning. He smiles to himself for a minute before craning his head to see if she's awake. She's not. Both she and Cora are sleeping, and somehow during the night both girls have managed to scoot closer to each other and to him. Isaac's hand is still reaching off the couch for Cora. The difference this time is that Cora's is reaching out for him as well and their fingers are linked. Stiles smiles at the tiny unconscious display of affection.

 

Lydia's still holding his hand and he thinks it can't be too comfortable for her, seeing as she now has to reach behind her back at a really weird angle, so he lets go of it. For some inexplicable reason, he feels a tiny piece of his heart break.

 

Lydia stirs a little not five seconds later. She whimpers quietly and Stiles' stomach clenches because she  sounds as flustered at the loss of touch as he feels.

 

She turns to sleep on her back but doesn't stop there and instead she positions herself on her other side facing Stiles. Her eyes are still closed and she and Stiles are so close he can count the freckles on her nose and cheeks.

 

He feels her reaching out with her hand, trying to feel for something, and Stiles immediately links his fingers with hers. She relaxes against him and the smile tugs at his lips again. 

 

His stomach is still clenching but for an entirely different reason now. He pushes a stray lock of hair off Lydia's face and tucks it behind her ear before kissing her hair. He pulls back only to see a tiny smile gracing her lips. He falls back asleep smiling too. 

 

The second time he wakes up that night, he's drenched in sweat trying hard to catch his breath. His throat is dry and his lungs hurt and he feels Lydia squeeze his fingers. 

 

It takes him ten seconds to realize the scream that woke him up was his own.

 

He doesn't remember much about the nightmare, just flashes of fangs and strawberry blond hair and Scott screaming in agony and blood. So much blood. 

 

He wants to be embarrassed because it was just a nightmare, he shouldn't be this worked up over it, but Scott and Lydia are on either side of him, Lydia's hand never leaving his and Scott's own hand on his back, and he thinks he might not have any reason to be embarrassed. He notices Cora rushing out of the room.

 

"It's okay," Lydia whispers pushing his hair back. "You're okay," she continues and he squeezes her hand so hard he knows it hurts but he can't bring himself to let go.

 

He's still trying to catch his breath when Cora leans in front of him with a glass of water in hand. "Here," she whispers handing him the cup and he tries to smile but he doesn't think he's very successful. 

 

She smiles and leans back to sit by his feet. Isaac is by her side in a second, Allison settling down on her other side, and Stiles wants to smile again because this is his family. He just had a nightmare and here they were all crowding in on him to make sure he's okay. He can even feel Derek's hand on his shoulder. 

 

"S- Sorry," he manages to choke out after gulping down some water. "I didn't mean to wake you guys up," he continues and turns to look at Lydia. Her worried eyes stare back at him like he's the only thing that matters and he wants to hug her so bad. He settles on squeezing her fingers instead.

 

"Yes, because it's the first time any of us has had a nightmare," Isaac says rolling his eyes. "It's not like we live in a world where werewolves are almost considered as pets."

 

"Yeah, no, Isaac's absolutely right," Allison says very seriously. "It's not like Scott's peed his pants before because of a nightmare," she adds and Lydia, Cora, and Isaac all try to hide their laughter. 

 

"Oh my God, that was the one time!" Scott argues rolling his eyes and Stiles can't help laughing along with the others. "Besides, it was barely a drop."

 

"Uh-huh, yeah, okay," Cora nods exaggeratedly.

 

"Dude, thanks for helping me through my nightmare, but these are new clothes, so do you mind moving back a little?" Stiles can't help but comment and everyone bursts into laughter. 

 

"Good to know losing your memory hasn't made you any less of an ass," Scott says rolling his eyes before lying down and turning his back to Stiles. "Night."

 

Stiles worries for a second that he really did upset his best friend. 

 

"And don't worry about getting wet. I wear diapers to bed now," Scott says a second later.

 

Everyone bursts out laughing even harder and just like that, Stiles' previous worry is gone. Instead he's just left  wondering if Scott's being serious or not, and he has half a mind to press his hand to his best friend's ass to check.

 

"Dude, that's commitment," Isaac mutters lying back on the ground.

 

Stiles smiles to himself at Isaac's obvious attempt to get closer to Cora. He's almost happy he had a nightmare if only to help the poor guy out.

 

Allison gets back up to lie down next to Scott and Cora picks up her pillows and blanket and rearranges them by Stiles' feet instead, making sure to stay next to Isaac. Stiles smiles even wider.

 

He feels Lydia shift next to him and he looks at her only to see her lying back as well. He scoots down and lies on his back next to her. He's still holding her hand and he can feel her thumb drawing shapes into his palm. He can't control the surge of affection that overtakes him so he decides to just embrace it instead. He pulls her hand up to his face and kisses it. This girl lost somebody she cared about not five hours ago, and here she is taking care of him because he's scared of the monsters under his bed.

 

He feels more than sees her sharp intake of breath, and he turns in time to see her blush slightly. She's trying to hide her smile, but then their eyes meet and Stiles swears he could sit there and look at her forever. 

 

Feeling somewhat emboldened by the sudden closeness, he turns on his side to face her and starts playing with her hair with his free hand.

 

She closes her eyes at his touch before pulling their hands up to tuck them between their bodies. 

 

They fall asleep with his hand in her hair. 

 

He wakes up another three times to the sound of people moving. The first time he sees Derek getting out of the room. When he hears the sound of a toilet being flushed, he relaxes and goes back to sleep. The second time, it's because Scott's moving so much, Stiles is almost sure he's dancing in his sleep. His elbow is digging into Stiles' back and he tries to ignore the kicks until he can't. He gives his best friend a good shove, something that relaxes the young alpha, before going back to sleep. He's barely asleep for another twenty minutes when he wakes up to the sound of a dog barking outside. He quickly falls back asleep. He's still clutching Lydia's fingers with one hand, the other one buried in her hair.

 

The sixth and final time he wakes up, he feels desperately cold and alone. He opens his eyes and Lydia's not there. He can see light pouring in from the window so he tells himself she's probably up already. He takes a look around and notices Isaac missing as well. It makes him feel a little better. Isaac can protect Lydia just fine. 

 

Still, he knows he won't entirely relax until he sees her for himself. 

 

Cora stirs a little when he gets up but otherwise stays asleep. 

 

He starts walking around the house trying to remember where the kitchen is. 

 

He finally finds his way there and he walks in to find Lydia and Isaac sitting on stools around the kitchen island, her head leaning on his shoulder.

 

"You're both okay. That's what matters. We won't let you be anything else," he hears Isaac say to Lydia.

 

Stiles can't explain the burst of jealousy he feels. He wishes he can describe it as something else, but the sudden need to bang Isaac's head against any hard surface can only be described as such. 

 

The worst part is they don't even notice him come in. Lydia's nursing a cup of something hot between her hands and Isaac has an empty plate with what looks like bread crumbs in front of him. 

 

He hates seeing Lydia this close to anyone else, even someone he knows she has no interest in. Not in that way at least. He hates it even more that he feels this way.

 

He wonders whether or not he should interrupt, but the point of this was to make sure she's okay, and now that he knows she's alive and kicking, there's no need for him to be there.

 

So he turns to go. He barely manages to take a step before he hears her voice.

 

"Stiles?"

 

He stops dead in his tracks because he might have been jealous and almost angry a second ago, but he can never ignore her even if he wanted to. He was actually secretly hoping they would notice him before he left because it's irrational and cheesy and downright stupid but he already missed her.

 

Her voice is thick with sleep but he can hear the worry there. 

 

"Hi," he says, turning around to face them again. They're still sitting the same way as before, only Lydia's head is no longer on Isaac's shoulder. He can't explain the relief he feels. 

 

He waves awkwardly and he wants to cry because he thought they were past the awkward waving phase. 

 

"Sorry," he mumbles scratching the back of his head. "I was, um, I woke up and was looking for you, but you looked kinda busy and I didn't want to interrupt you guys..."

 

"Is everything okay?" Lydia asks, her voice sobering up with even more worry and Stiles wants to hit himself for working her up.

 

"Yeah, no, yeah, everything's fine," he's quick to reply. "I just, I, um, I woke up and you weren't there, so, um..." He feels awkward and stupid and he hates that he's stammering like a little kid. But he doesn't need to say more, because he looks at Lydia and when she looks back at him, he knows she understands. 

 

"I'm fine," she says and he swears there's the hint of a smile playing on her lips. "I just wasn't feeling too good and Isaac happened to be awake so he made me some tea," she explains nodding her head towards the hot mug. 

 

"I kept my hands to myself, I swear," Isaac says raising his hand in the air and Stiles can't help but chuckle. 

 

He notices Lydia also chuckle and blush and he wants to kiss Isaac.

 

"Are you okay?" He asks stepping closer and leaning against the counter across from them.

 

His hands almost reach out for Lydia's around the hot mug. He actually wants to go to Lydia and kiss her and hug her and make sure she's okay. But Isaac's there. And he's still so careful with his feelings for this girl because it's impossible to care so much for a person you've known for such a short period of time. 

 

"Yeah, I'm fine," she's quick to reassure him. "Just a bit tired, a side effect of the screaming my head off thing." 

 

She's trying to make light of the situation, he knows. He's also aware that beyond all of this, she lost someone she cares about. 

 

"Not to mention losing someone she cares about has taken its toll on her," Isaac says sadly and Stiles turns to look at him so fast he almost gives himself whiplash. Did Isaac read his mind or something? "It's taken its toll on all of us," Isaac continues running his hand through his curls. "It's never easy."

 

"It doesn't feel real," Lydia explains looking down.

 

Stiles notices Isaac getting ready to put his arm around Lydia but he changes his mind at the last second. He looks up instead and eyes Stiles before nodding his head towards Lydia. 

 

She looks so sad but Stiles wants to laugh because during one of the saddest moments of his existence, Isaac is trying to play matchmaker. 

 

Still, he does as the curly-haired boy says and moves around the island towards Lydia. Isaac might think he's doing this to comfort her, but the truth is he's a bit more selfish than they think and he needs to be next to her just as much. 

 

He hesitates for a second when he's near her but Isaac gets off his stool and puts his dish in the sink before walking out of the kitchen and Stiles appreciates the gesture. 

 

He finally makes up his mind and steps closer to stand next to Lydia. She's already so much shorter than he is and she's even tinier curled up on her stool.

 

He starts rubbing her back with one hand and he reaches for her shoulder with the other before sliding his hand down her arm and past her elbow until he links his fingers with hers.

 

He feels her tense up before relaxing against his arm and squeezing his fingers.

 

"It's okay," he whispers into her hair. "The only thing that matters is you're okay," he continues and he doesn't know how true his statement is until he says it. He feels his heart break when he hears her sniffle. 

 

He pulls back and tries to look at her face but she doesn't allow him. Instead, she turns on her stool and buries her face in his shirt. His memory might be a little shaken up but he can take a hint so he lets go of her hand and puts both arms around her, hugging her back like his life depends on it. 

 

He can hear her crying into his shirt and she's clutching at it like he might not be here if she lets go and Stiles feels a lump form in his throat at the thought of losing her. 

 

"It's okay," he whispers and he tries so hard to keep his voice steady. "You're okay, Lydia," he continues before kissing the top of her head. "I won't let anything happen to you." 

 

She finally pulls herself back to look up at him but she doesn't let go of him and he keeps his hands firmly on her waist.  

 

The tears on her face tug at his heart almost as much as her red-rimmed eyes.

 

"It's not me I'm worried about," she manages to choke out quietly and Stiles feels a sadness wash over him.

 

"Lyds..." He whispers wiping her tears with one of his hands.

 

She's looking at him like he's the most important thing in the world and she moves her hand to hold his on her cheek like it's her lifeline. 

 

The thought of losing her passes through his mind again and the despair that takes over his body scares him.

 

He wants to kiss her. He's going to kiss her. He starts to lean in, their eyes never wavering, and his lips are almost on hers when her phone rings and they jump apart so suddenly he has to grip the counter to keep from falling. 

 

He's never hated phones more.

 

She takes a look at the caller before picking up rather quickly. 

 

"Sheriff?" He hears her say and he feels his heart stop. Her face says she feels the same. "Is everything okay?"

 

The three seconds it takes his dad to reply are the longest of his life. He hears him faintly say they're just calling to check up on her. They. He guesses he's with Melissa then.

 

"Oh, yeah I'm fine, thank you," she lets out and Stiles relaxes when he sees the relief on her face. "You scared us, is all," she continues and looks at Stiles with a hint of a smile on her face.

 

By the time Lydia's done with her phone call, everyone else is up and roaming around the kitchen. Naturally, the moment's gone and Stiles' mood has darkened considerably. 

 

He ends up going up to Lydia's room to change into his clothes from the night before, but before he knows is, Lydia's right at his tail with some jeans, a clean T-shirt and a hoodie.

 

"Okay, seriously, how many of those do you have?" Stiles asks pointing at the grey garment. 

 

"Not enough," Lydia says laughing but then she stops short when Stiles starts to take off his shirt.

 

He didn't actually mean to make her feel uncomfortable or awkward but he's never really had a problem with nudity. Besides, this isn't even pg-13. It's just a shirt.

 

Still, he likes the way she's looking at him, her eyes somewhat dark, and when she wets her lips, it's all he can do to keep from attacking her face right there.

 

He busies himself instead and puts on the black cotton tee before pulling on the cotton jacket. 

 

She's still looking at him and there's no way he's taking off his pants when she's there. He can already feel a slight tightness in his sweats and he thanks heavens for the darker tone of the pants.

 

"Right, sorry, I'll let you get changed in peace," Lydia says when she notices his discomfort. "Sorry, I'll just..." She mumbles pointing towards the door and then turning to go.

 

She barely takes two steps before she turns his way once again. Before he knows it she launches herself at him and the next thing he knows, her lips are on his and he doesn't think he's ever felt anything like this. Her hands are on his cheeks and she has to stand on her tiptoes to reach. Her lips are soft and there's a hint of honey there and he holds his breath to savor every second of it. He knows he should do something, pull her closer or put his arms around her or something, but he's too busy standing there like an idiot. He's just about realized that Lydia is actually kissing him when she pulls back like she's been burned. It's way too soon for his liking and he lets out the breath he was holding. 

 

Lydia's standing on the other end of the room like she's facing the scariest monster she's seen. She's staring at him with wide eyes and he's looking right back at her, only he feels like he's been hit on the head with Melissa's bat.

 

"You, um, you held your breath," she whispers and her tone confuses him even more than her words. She sounds hopeful and sad and surprised all at once. Her eyes are wide and soft and almost nostalgic.

 

Most of all, he doesn't understand why this sounds so familiar to him. 

 

"I-"

 

"We're making breakfast!" They hear Isaac shout, startling them both. The sound of footsteps coming up the stairs follows. 

 

He turns his head towards the door and by the time he looks back to where Lydia is supposed to be, she's already gone.

 

He stares at her empty space for a few minutes before he starts moving again. 

 

He can't stop thinking about the kiss. Not when he gets dressed. Not when he heads downstairs. Not when he eats his breakfast nor when he drinks his coffee.

 

He thinks it's a good thing. The kiss, that is. It felt good and so so right. It was mostly her reaction to it that confused him. And the fact that while he's sitting on the kitchen island next to Cora having breakfast with her and Scott, Lydia's barely looked at him, let alone talked to him. 

 

She's milling around the kitchen helping out with everything but so are Isaac and Allison and they both had time to come steal some bacon off their plates and join in on their conversation which is mostly Cora trying and failing to find excuses as to why her uncle isn't a demon spawn. Lydia on the other hand hasn't been anywhere near them nor has she said a word since Stiles came down.

 

"What do you think, Lydia?" Cora asks casually. 

 

Lydia's standing in front of the open fridge staring. She's been doing that for the past three minutes. Not that Stiles is counting or anything.

 

"Lyds?" Cora tries again when the strawberry blond doesn't move. "Earth to Lydia!" She says louder and Lydia is startled out of her trance.

 

"What?" Lydia asks turning to look at Cora. 

 

"What were you thinking about?" Allison asks.

 

Lydia's eyes dart around the room frantically until they land on Stiles. He can't help the smirk that takes over his face. Lydia flushes, her eyes never leaving his and Stiles knows what she's thinking about. He licks his lips involuntarily and he practically hears her swallow thickly.

 

"Lyds!" Allison yells to grab the girl's attention. 

 

"Sorry, sorry," Lydia mutters snapping out of it and turning to look at Allison. "It's nothing important."

 

She probably doesn't mean it. She just doesn't want to tell people what happened between her and Stiles. But he can't help but frown a little at her words. _It's nothing important._

 

"Right, so do you think Peter did it?" Cora asks again.

 

"You do realize you're asking a girl he tried to kill, turn, and manipulate too many times to count," Isaac says raising his eyebrows and Stiles feels an unnatural hatred towards Peter. "Of course she's going to blame him!"

 

"True," Lydia agrees. "But even without all of that, I'd still blame him."

 

Cora still argues that her uncle could be an innocent bystander in all of this, but everyone seems to think he's anything but. They continue with their conversation until they finish breakfast. Lydia doesn't talk to Stiles much after that but at least she sits with them. 

 

She's in the shower when he leaves. He doesn't want to go without seeing her because something doesn't feel right about the way she's acting, but Isaac and Derek have already left and Scott wants to leave too. The girls are staying over at Lydia's for the day and Stiles is all out of excuses as to why he and Scott should stick around a little longer. Besides, his dad's waiting for him at home. 

 

Deflated, he finally decides to go. 

 

"I'll tell her you said bye," Cora whispers when he's out the door.

 

He looks back at her and she gives him a knowing smile. Somehow he knows this isn't the first time he and Cora have talked about this. 

 

\-------------------------------------

 

She's still in the shower when she hears the front door close one last time and she knows this time it's him. She feel a tightness in her chest at the thought of being away from him, but she's also relieved because she hasn't been able to look him in the eye without thinking about those lips of his ever since they kissed. Ever since she attacked him with her lips is more like it. 

 

She doesn't know what possessed her to do it. She really wasn't planning on it. She promised herself to take things slow and thread carefully because she's had her heart broken too many times and she doesn't think she can handle it this time. Especially not where Stiles is concerned. But then he went and took off his shirt and okay, it's not like he's got a twelve-pack going on or anything, but she definitely did not expect that. He's toned and well-defined and it was all she could do to stand her ground and not attack him.

 

She thought she'd calmed down and avoided the brunt of it, that she'd had her feelings in check, but then she turned to go and her legs got a mind of their own and her body agreed and the next she knew they were kissing. And sure, he didn't exactly respond enthusiastically, but his lips told another story. They were moving in tandem with hers and where hers were frantic and needy, his were soft and searching like he was trying to remember everything about her and she doesn't know when is it that she became the needy one. 

 

She shakes her head under the stream to clear it of thoughts of warm lips and plaid and long fingers. It lasts all of two minutes before she's thinking about him again.

 

She hates that she can't seem to look him in the eye. It will probably work out in time, but for now, a million thoughts and reactions are going through her mind and she can't seem to separate the bad from the good. 

 

She kissed him. Because she couldn't control herself. And Lydia can always control herself. At least she thought she could. But apparently not when it comes to Stiles. And this worries her so much more than it should. 

 

She kissed him. And he didn't sweep her up in his arms like she imagined he would, but he didn't pull away either. And he held his breath. Again. 

 

She kissed him. A small smile tugs at her lips, but then she thinks about him sitting in the kitchen this morning having breakfast with Cora and she feels something unpleasant in her stomach. It's nothing against Cora, she actually really likes the girl, but the problem is, with Stiles' memory gone, this is a clean slate for everyone, but mostly for him. He doesn't remember that he'd been in love with her ever since he learned how to walk. All he knows is he met her a few days ago. And he met Cora a couple of days after. And while it's clear that he does like Lydia, that something could be going on between them, he could still decide that she's not worth it, especially that he seems to have already formed a bond with Cora in such a short period of time.

 

Lydia feels her eyes water slightly at the thought of actually losing Stiles to someone else and the unpleasant feeling in her stomach almost turns painful. She straightens up and swallows back the tears. 

 

She's already on her way to heartbreak, she knows it. And this time, it might actually damage her beyond repair. She needs to take a step back from it all.

 

It's easier to say that when she's not next to Stiles, but she resolves herself to trying even when he is around. 

 

The more she thinks about it, the less she thinks he liked that she kissed him. Maybe she misinterpreted that moment in the kitchen this morning, maybe he wasn't trying to kiss her. Maybe his lips were soft and searching because he was trying to understand why she was kissing him. Dammit, she shouldn't have done it. 

 

She feels the tears in her eyes again and she thinks about Aiden's dead body. She's fully sobbing now, and it's easier to pretend her impending heartbreak isn't half the reason for that.

 

It takes her a while to pull herself together enough to get out of the shower. The water's turned freezing by then and she can't keep from shivering. 

 

She wraps her towel around herself and moves into the room to get dressed. The girls have decided to spend the day in and then maybe go out at night if they feel like a change of scenery, so for now she can be as comfortable as she wants. She pulls on a pair of cotton pajama pants - black with colored polka dots - and moves to grab a shirt. She notices the shirt Stiles wore to sleep last night still on her bed. She knows she shouldn't, knows that wearing his clothes isn't the smartest idea if she wants to try and avoid heartbreak. That doesn't stop her from pulling the shirt on. But she grabs her own sweater instead of his hoodie to try and prove a point. She has no idea what that point is or who she's trying to prove it to.

 

She rolls her eyes at herself before she goes downstairs. Her hair's still wet, but she doesn't have the patience to do anything to it right now, so she leaves it be.

 

She finds Allison and Cora sprawled lazily on the couch. Cora's typing furiously on her phone and Allison's laptop is propped up in her lap. The TV's on but the sound is muted and she catches a glimpse of Emma Stone sewing a "A" patch onto her flimsy corset. 

 

Lydia smiles to herself. She likes this movie. She checks her phone once before settling on the couch between the two girls. When she notices she has no messages or calls, she throws the phone onto the coffee table with a bit more force than necessary, and she notices Allison raise an eyebrow at her. She shrugs before grabbing the controller and raising the volume. 

 

They stay like that for the bigger part of the day. They only move to go to the bathroom and to pay the delivery guy when they order lunch. 

 

Lydia's phone doesn't so much as beep, and at more than one point she feels her heart squeeze a little. She's been away from Stiles for barely a few hours and she misses him more than she should. 

 

After lunch, Allison shuts off her laptop and Cora throws away her phone and the girls snuggle up to each other on the couch. 

 

It feels good to be surrounded by family and Lydia quickly falls asleep. She wakes up drenched in sweat and clawing at an imaginary monster, images of Stiles and Scott's bruised and battered bodies haunting her vision. 

 

Allison and Cora are here to calm her down much like they all did for Stiles when he woke up that morning. The nightmare mixes with reality and the only thing Lydia can see is Aiden's ripped out throat and Stiles' lifeless eyes and Scott's bloodied face and she can't take much more of it. She crumbles in a heap, Cora's arms the only thing holding her together and Allison's voice her only tether to the world. It's not enough. 

 

"Stiles and Scott," she croaks out between sobs.

 

"What?" Cora asks pushing Lydia's hair out of her face gently. "What's wrong, Lyds?" 

 

"Stiles and Scott," she repeats, her voice stronger now, but she's still gasping for breath and she can't stop crying. "Please, just call them. I just... Just put him on speakerphone. Both of them. Don't tell them anything's wrong." She's trying to make sense, and if she's not, neither Allison nor Cora are looking at her like she's crazy and she's thankful for that alone.  

 

"Right," Allison murmurs taking out her phone without so much as another word. 

 

She dials the number and puts her phone on loud speaker before she props the device up in Lydia's lap.

 

"Hey," Scott's voice is heard after two rings. 

 

Lydia's breathing slows down marginally. Scott's okay.

 

"Hey Scott," Allison says cheerfully as if nothing's wrong at all. "Where are you?"

 

"Stiles and I are getting takeout for mom," he replies. "Is something wrong?"

 

"No, no, nothing," Allison says casually. "Stiles' with you? Can you put him on speakerphone?"

 

"Sure," Scott says and Lydia can practically feel him raise an eyebrow. "Allison," she hears Scott murmur and she guesses he's telling Stiles who's on the phone.

 

"Hey Stiles," Allison says just at cheerful as before and Lydia wants to beg her to tone it down a bit. 

 

"Hey."

 

It's just one word. Barely audible above the car radio. But it's enough to lift the dark cloud that was threatening to suffocate Lydia. It's enough to pull her out of the darkness and back into her life. 

 

"Hey," Allison repeats looking over at Lydia. "We, um, just wanted to see what you guys were up to," Allison continues.

 

"We?" Stiles asks.

 

"You're on loud speaker,"Allison explains. 

 

"Oh. Well, like I said, food for mom," Scott says. "Then probably spend the night playing video games. Isaac and Derek are meeting us over at Stiles' later tonight." 

 

"Unless you guys had something else in mind," Stiles is quick to say and Lydia fights off the urge to yell at them to come over and stay with them.

 

"I mean," Cora picks up, "we're too tired to go out, but you guys can come and have dinner here before you go to Stiles'. I'll tell Isaac and Derek to meet you here instead."

 

Lydia looks over at Cora who sends a small smile her way and she's torn between wanting to kiss her and wanting to hit her. She wants to see Stiles more than anything but at the same time what about taking things slow and figuring things out and leaving no room for heartbreak? 

 

"Yeah, yeah, definitely," Stiles replies on the spot and Lydia chooses to smile at his eagerness instead. "I mean, sure, whatever," he tries to cover up, but it's sort of too late.

 

"We'll pick something up on our way," Scott says and Lydia can hear the smile in his voice and she knows he's teasing Stiles. 

 

"See you guys in a bit," Allison says before hanging up. 

 

The girls look awkwardly at each other before Cora speaks up.

 

"So, are we going to talk about the fact that you've had two panic attacks in two days and Stiles has been the only one who's able to calm you down?"

 

"I am not having panic attacks," Lydia bristles getting off the couch and making her way to the kitchen with some of the empty containers laying around on the living room table. 

 

"Uh-huh," Cora says. "Hyperventilation, hysterical sobbing, perspiration. I'd say these are pretty solid signs of an attack of sorts," she insists following her into the kitchen.

 

"Give it a rest, Cora," Lydia says tiredly. "I just had a nightmare."

 

"And what about yesterday then?"

 

"I'M FINE!" Lydia blurts out, her voice louder than she'd like, but Cora's making too much sense for her liking. "I'm just tired, and Aiden's dead, and I'm worried about you guys." A sigh escapes her lips when she notices the hurt look on Cora's face. "I'm sorry," she whispers dropping the containers in the trash. "I'm just going to get up and get some rest before they get here."

 

She doesn't wait for a response and turns around quickly heading up the stairs. She can't face their worried looks and questions right now. She curls up on her bed as soon as she's in her room and it takes all of two minutes for her to fall asleep. 

 

It's not a comfortable sleep. She's restless and she keeps seeing shapes and dark things, and at one point she thinks she hears someone walk into her room and call out her name once, twice, three times, a tiny pressure on her forehead, but she's not lucid enough to actually react to the noise. It's almost an hour later by the time she wakes up tangled in her sheets, and it's funny because she doesn't remember covering herself before falling asleep. She hears voices downstairs. The boys are here. 

 

She washes her face and brushes her teeth but she can't be bothered to change into something else. It's not like the boys are staying for long. Besides, they've seen her in worse.

 

She's giddy at the thought of seeing Stiles. All thoughts of staying away from him and taking things slow seem to fade into the background when she thinks about being around him. She just wants to be near him. They don't have to talk, he doesn't even need to look at her if he doesn't want to, she just wants to spend some time with him around. 

 

She makes her way down the stairs quietly, a thousand butterflies raging harder in her stomach the closer she gets. 

 

She's still almost at the middle of the staircase, but she can already see the living room from her vantage point. Isaac and Derek are nowhere in sight, but Scott and Allison are seated on the floor around the coffee table. They seem to be picking at some dumplings as they stare at something on Allison's laptop. Right behind them on the couch are Stiles and Cora, sharing a container of what looks to be like noodles. They seem to be deep in conversation, slightly oblivious to the world around them, and Lydia can't help the tightness she feels in her stomach. Her eyes water on their own accord because it does seem like her worst nightmare coming true.

 

Isn't this what she was dreading all along? That Stiles would figure out he has better options than her? 

 

Maybe if she hadn't been so blind before, things would be different. Maybe then he wouldn't have been alone that night as he went to chase his father down, and he wouldn't have had that accident, and he wouldn't have forgotten her. They would be together right now instead of him sharing food with Cora and listening intently to something she was saying. Maybe that smile on his face would be directed at her instead. 

 

She feels her lip quiver and wetness on her cheek and she turns to go back up before anyone can spot her. 

 

\-------------------------------------

 

So what if he sounds a little too eager? He doesn't really care. He just wants to see her.

 

"We'll pick something up on our way," Scott says looking at him with a knowing smile on his face.

 

"See you guys in a bit," he hears Allison say before hanging up. 

 

Scott's still staring at him with that stupid smirk on his face. 

 

"What?" He practically yells because he really can't stand his best friend looking at him like that anymore.

 

"Nothing, nothing," Scott replies innocently, turning to keep his eyes on the road. "I just, I thought you were looking forward to spending a night with the guys?" 

 

Smartass.

 

"We're still spending a night with the guys, we're just making a little detour for dinner." Stiles tries to go for casual. He's probably doing a pretty lousy job. 

 

"Uh-huh." Scott nods exaggeratedly. "A little detour by the name of Lydia Martin." 

 

Yeah, he's definitely doing a lousy job.

 

"Shut up," he mutters turning to look out the window to hide his blush. He tries to think of a comeback, he really does, but Scott is right. 

 

It takes them all of thirty minutes to get Chinese takeout, drop some at the hospital for Melissa, and drive over to Lydia's with the rest. Beacon Hills really is a small town.

 

Allison greets them at the door. She and Scott move to get some utensils from the kitchen, and Stiles feels his mood sour a little when only Cora is waiting for him in the living room. 

 

"She's resting upstairs for a bit," Cora says before he even asks, and for the second time today he gets the feeling Cora knows a lot more than she lets on. "You should probably go and try to wake her up."

 

He looks at Cora like she's a wonder and he kinda feels like she is. She gives him a small smile in return beckoning him up the stairs with her head. She seems to care a lot more than she lets on too.

 

Stiles makes his way up the stairs quietly, a nervous excitement taking over him at the prospect of being near Lydia. She kissed him this morning and he didn't get a chance to properly return the favor, but that's all he wants to do now.

 

He knocks softly on her door when he's in front of her room but he gets no answer. He lets himself in slowly, not wanting to startle her.

 

She's laying on her bed, curled up in a ball. Her blankets are balled up at the edge of her bed and she looks cold.

 

"Lydia," Stiles whispers taking a step closer to her bed. 

 

She looks tired and Stiles can't help the feeling that she's not as comfortable as she seems.

 

"Lyds," he murmurs again. "Food's here." She doesn't stir. "Lydia," he tries one more time a little louder than before. 

 

He tries not to be too disappointed that she won't be joining them. One of her closest friends died and she had to be the one to find him, so she's understandably exhausted. He can't imagine ever having to do that. 

 

He moves to pick up the blankets at the edge of her bed, and covers her up with them. She curls further into her bed, holding on to the sheets. 

 

He can't help himself when he tangles his hand in her hair, brushing it away from her face. He lowers himself down and plants a small kiss to her forehead. He wishes she could wake up so he could kiss her properly. He looks at her one more time before moving to leave the room.

 

Allison and Scott have already occupied the space around the small table by the time he's downstairs. Cora's seated on the couch staring off into space. They all turn his way when they hear him coming.

 

"She's asleep," he says before they ask. 

 

Scott looks surprised, Allison sad, and Cora looks disappointed and almost worried. Maybe he should talk to her. He hasn't been able to do much of that since she got here, and they supposedly got along pretty well. Enough to make Lydia think something was going on between them.

 

He moves to grab some food out of the takeout bag.

 

"So, what will it be?" He asks looking at Cora. Scott and Allison have already turned their attention to the laptop and won't even be bothered to pretend they care what Stiles is saying. "Cashew chicken noodles or oyster beef?"  

 

"Noodles," Cora replies smiling.

 

He smiles back before picking up the carton box and two forks. He hands one to Cora before settling on the couch next to her and opening the box. She doesn't need an invitation to dig in. They're both quiet for a while, and it starts to get a bit awkward, especially with neither Scott nor Allison paying any attention to them. 

 

"Okay, can we please skip over the awkward let's reintroduce ourselves to each other bit?" Cora blurts out suddenly. "I know you don't remember me, but I remember you, and I don't want to have to be introduced to someone I actually know. So can we run through that quickly? Like a quick recap or something. You ask, and I'll answer. Whatever you want. As long as you knew it before you lost your memory, of course. If you're stepping onto new territory, I can choose to not answer." 

 

"That actually sounds like the best idea anyone's had since I lost my memory," Stiles says smiling and stuffing a spoonful of noodles down his throat. "I can see why I liked you before. I did like you, right?"

 

"You did. At least I think you did." Stiles chuckles. "I wasn't here for that long before your accident, but we bonded pretty fast. You guessed some things about me, I guessed some things about you, and that was it. I was going to help you tell your dad about the supernatural, you gave me CPR when I was dying once."

 

"CPR? You were dying?" 

 

"Yeah, but then Derek gave up his alpha status to help me."

 

"Right, right," Stiles says nodding while chewing another forkful of noodles. "So what was the extent of our relationship?" He asks because Cora seems like someone he can be honest with. He's already comfortable around her and it's barely been a day. "Like, were you my girl-Scott, or did we just hang out sometimes, or do you know the color of my underwear?"

 

"Those things aren't mutually exclusive, you know," Cora says smiling as she raises her eyebrows. "You tend to take off your clothes around literally anyone, so I do know the color of your underwear. You have a lot of Spider-Man ones which are pretty cool. I mean once we got past the point of I'm-not-staring-at-your-junk-I'm-actually-checking-out-your-underwear you showed me most of them."

 

Stiles doesn't know if he should blush or not but Cora is talking about his underwear like she's talking about the bathroom sink and there really isn't anything remotely embarrassing about it. Besides, Scott and Allison are way too into their own thing to hear their conversation.

 

"Right," Stiles smiles.

 

"To answer your question, I was probably your girl-Scott. And despite popular belief, nothing happened between us. We thought maybe something would happen in the first five minutes of us meeting each other. But then Lydia walked into the room and you sort of forgot how to breathe, and really, how could anyone compete with that." 

 

He does blush this time, because apparently everyone knows about his thing for Lydia. 

 

"And I see you still feel the same way as before, despite losing your memory," Cora states and Stiles likes her and hates her because no one should be allowed to read him that well.

 

"And let me guess, that's the same way you feel about Isaac," he says because he wants to give her a taste of her own medicine.

 

To his surprise, Cora smiles and blushes and he would've never taken her for a smile-and-blush kind of girl. She looks over at Scott and Allison to make sure they didn't hear anything, but they seem as dead to the world as ever.

 

"You were the only who noticed then, and you're still the only one who's noticed now." 

 

"How can anyone not notice?" Stiles asks snorting noisily. "It's pretty obvious you two have a thing going on." 

 

"Oh. No. No, no no no. We don't have a thing going on. Isaac's into Allison," Cora is quick to say. She's whispering now because their conversation has turned to really private territory, Stiles can feel it. The sad look she tries to hide bothers Stiles more than it should.

 

"Are you kidding me?" Stiles whispers forcefully. He wants to laugh because he thought Cora was smarter than this. "I'm not buying this whole Isaac likes Allison crap. Have you seen the way she's with Scott?"

 

"Well then, how do you explain the tether thing?" 

 

"Christ, Cora. Deaton is Scott's tether, and they're not exactly the Romeo and Juliet of their time, are they?"

 

"They could be, if you squint a little," Cora says seriously and Stiles can't help himself when he bursts out laughing. She smiles at him like she's proud of her joke. "Besides, Derek wouldn't approve," she continues sobering up.

 

"Look, Cora, if you want to blame it on that, do it. All I'm hearing anyway is that you're too chicken shit to do anything about it. Isaac does not like Allison. At least not in that way."

 

They're both quiet for a few moments and Cora has a contemplative look on her face.

 

"It doesn't matter anyway," she mutters and Stiles understands she means for him to drop the subject, so he won't push for now. "What about you and Lydia?" Cora asks. "How are things going on that front?"

 

"Confusing," Stiles admits letting out a sigh while staring at the half-empty box of noodles. "She kinda kissed me this morning," Stiles admits and he has no idea why it feels okay to share something like that with Cora, but it does. 

 

He remembers the feeling of Lydia's lips on his, and he knows he wants more of that. A lot more.

 

"Seeing as I'm pretty sure you feel as strongly about her as ever, that's great news, Stiles," Cora says sweetly. 

 

"Except that she blew me off for the rest of the day," Stiles mutters darkly. 

 

"She's scared," Cora states like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "You know, earlier, when we called, it wasn't just to see what you were up to," she admits. She might be betraying Lydia's trust, but Stiles needs to know. "She fell asleep for a while and woke up from a nightmare. I'm pretty sure she was having a panic attack but she won't admit to it. Same as last night. And she only calmed down when she heard your voice. Same as last night also."

 

"I'm scared, too," Stiles confesses trying to take in Cora's words. "You think it's easy to feel this strongly about someone I've known for a week?" 

 

"Except that you've known her your entire life." 

 

"But I don't remember it, Cora."

 

"I think on some level, you do. Otherwise you wouldn't feel the way that you do," Cora explains. 

 

"Were you always this smart?" Stiles asks, smiling at Cora.

 

"Yep," she smiles back and he chuckles. 

 

He's still looking at her smiling when he thinks he sees a flash of red on the stairs. He blinks and it's gone.

 

"What?" Cora asks looking behind her and following Stiles' line of vision.

 

"Nothing," he's quick to say. "I just thought..." 

 

He doesn't have to continue for Cora to understand.

 

"Maybe you should check up on her," she says picking up the box from his lap.

 

He smiles gratefully at her before moving to go to Lydia's room.

 

He's more nervous than before and it probably has to do with the fact that he now knows she needs him a lot more than she lets on.

 

He feels disappointment wash over him when he enters her room and she's still in bed. Her back is turned to him, but he's almost positive that he didn't imagine seeing her on the staircase. 

 

"Lydia," he whispers but she doesn't answer.

 

He feels sad and confused because why wouldn't she answer him. 

 

"I, um, I thought I saw you on the stairs," he tries. Maybe if she knows he saw her, she'll give up on pretending. She doesn't. "Maybe I was just imagining what I wanted to see." He's taken aback by his confession, but if feels very easy to admit to things when he's not sure anyone's listening to him. "I just, I'm worried about you," he explains. "You've been distant today, and I know it hasn't been long enough for me to say that, but I feel it in my bones that you're not okay." He whispers, and he has the sudden urge to climb into bed with her and hold her in his arms. He doesn't. "I just wanted to let you know I'm here for you. Whatever you need. I'm here." 

 

He almost chokes on the last word and he can swear he hears her sniffle. It breaks his heart that she doesn't want to see him, but he can't push her. So he walks out of her room and back downstairs without so much as another word. 

 

Cora's waiting for him on the couch, and when he doesn't say anything, she doesn't ask. She just hands him the container of noodles and smiles sympathetically at him. 

 

He doesn't eat or talk much after that. He can't stand Cora's pity and he's thankful when Scott and Allison start telling them about how they're trying to track Peter and Deucalion and Jennifer's movements. They're not taking any chances this time. Chris has already alerted several of his "friends" in different states to keep an eye out for anything different.

 

Stiles isn't paying much attention to what they're saying. When Isaac finally shows up alone - Derek's not joining them tonight - Stiles decides to leave. He wants to give Cora some time alone with him, and despite Scott's offer to leave with him, he insists that he feels like walking. 

 

Isaac runs into the bathroom and Stiles uses this as an excuse to use the upstairs bathroom before he leaves. He walks up the stairs slowly, silently hoping to find the door to her room open. It's not. The upstairs hallway is as empty as ever. He makes his way to the bathroom anyway for lack of anything better to do. Before he goes back downstairs, he lingers for a second in front of her room, wondering if he should try talking to her again. He doesn't.

 

Everyone's in the living room. He should probably go in there and say goodbye, but he doesn't want to face their pitying eyes and worried faces. 

 

"See you guys later," he yells grabbing his jacket off the hanger and letting himself out. 

 

The cold night air hits him like a brick wall and he has to rub his hands together to keep from freezing. He can't help it when he stops at the end of Lydia's driveway to look at where he knows her room is. There's no light but he swears he sees her standing by the window looking at him. Before he can look closer, the front door opens.

 

"I know what you're doing," Cora says taking a few steps outside. There's a smile on her face that Stiles can't help but mirror despite his own sour mood. "Thanks."

 

"You know Scott and Allison are going to be too busy pretending they're not thinking about doing each other," he says and he hears Cora chuckle. "So make the best of it."

 

She only smiles wider before turning to go back in.

 

By the time he looks back up, Lydia's gone. Maybe she was never there. Maybe he just wanted her to be. 

 

He sighs before turning back to make his way onto the street. The smile on his face is replaced by a frown and there's an emptiness in him he can't seem to shake.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All it takes is a little bit of honesty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I made a promise to try and update this before the new year, and yay, promise made, promise kept! So this one has some development on the Stydia front that hopefully most of you will approve of. I still can't believe people are actually reading this and it makes me so nervous to post new chapters because every time I do, I keep thinking it, this is it, this is gonna be the one that's gonna push them away. So yeah, hopefully it won't push you guys away. Cause I love you, and stuff. Also an early happy new year. Yeah, I'm gonna shut up now.

He's kinda surprised when he looks up to find that he's already in his driveway. He didn't actually pay attention where he was walking, too caught up in thoughts of the last few days. It feels too good to be true when he thinks about it. He woke up with no recollection of his life, only to find that there are so many people who care about him that it's sometimes overwhelming. Between Scott and Lydia and Allison and the pack and the parental units, it's like he has an entire army of his own and he doesn't know how he got so lucky. True, all of that came with a price since their lives are threatened more often than not, but it seems like such a small price to pay for so much in return. 

 

His mind also deviated to Lydia too many times as he was walking home. He's almost sure she was avoiding him. Maybe he's reading too much into it, maybe she was just really tired, but he's positive he saw her awake both on the staircase and at her window, so maybe she is avoiding him. He feels an inexplicable sadness wash over him at the thought of Lydia not wanting to be around him. It's too soon for him to think like that, he hasn't known her for nearly long enough, but he thinks it will hurt too much if she decides that she doesn't want to be his friend all of a sudden. So much it might even be unbearable. 

 

He shakes the dark thoughts out of his mind as he makes his way to his front door. He pulls out his keys and lets himself into the house. 

 

"Dad?" He asks as he takes off his jacket.

 

"In here," he hears his father's muffled voice and he follows the sound into the dining room. His father's got a few files open on the table, a marker in hand and a pen in his mouth. There's a half empty glass of scotch next to the files.

 

"Hey."

 

"Hey son," his dad says flashing him a smile.

 

"Any progress?" Stiles asks moving to stand over his shoulder to look at the files himself. 

 

"Not really," his dad mutters darkly. "I'm trying to find any ties to Aiden's case but so far I'm coming up blank. Everything seems to be too much of a coincidence."

 

"You'll get there eventually," Stiles tries to go for encouraging before settling down on the chair next to where the Sheriff is looming over the table. Stiles can't help the sigh that escapes him before rubbing his face. He's tired and worried and cranky. 

 

"How is she?" His dad asks and he doesn't need to ask to know who he's talking about.

 

"I don't know," Stiles mutters sadly. "I didn't actually get to see her, she was apparently too tired to sit with us." He can't help the bitterness that seeps into his voice.

 

"Give her some time," his dad says. "She lost someone very close to her so she needs time to heal."

 

"I know," Stiles agrees sadly and he almost feels guilty for being slightly angry at Lydia when she must have been going through hell the past couple of days. It's just that he can't help feeling that it's not only Aiden's death that's upset her. 

 

They drop the subject after that and Stiles changes into something more comfortable. Isaac and Scott are at his house about thirty minutes later and he feels slightly bad for Cora because she deserved more time with Isaac, but he's too glad for the company of the boys to let it upset him too much. After all, he needs a distraction from the thoughts eating at his brain, and spending the night playing video games with Scott and Isaac proves to be just the thing. 

 

It's easy spending time with them even when Derek shows up, and Stiles wonders if things would've been the same for them if Scott hadn't been turned into a werewolf. Would they still have met Isaac and Derek? Would Cora still be a part of his life? Would he still be chasing after Lydia?

 

He forces himself to stop thinking so much and just enjoy the night. It's not easy considering his mind keeps drifting back to Lydia and how much he misses her and how he wants nothing but for her to be here right now. But when Scott calls for a Mortal Kombat tournament, he jumps at the chance to do something that will take his mind off everything. 

 

They stay up until they can't function anymore and he wakes up at ten in the morning feeling tired and grumpy. He's in his bed, his sheets tangled at his feet where Scott is laying horizontally. He swears this is not how they fell asleep, that they started the night positioned like normal human beings. Isaac and Derek are both snoring on the floor, one of the controllers still in Isaac's hands. 

 

He washes up quietly and gets dressed before going downstairs. His father's got the early shift today so he's left a long time ago. He walks aimlessly around the house before he resigns himself to going grocery shopping today because he wants to help his dad anyway he can.

 

The boys are up and out of his house by noon and Stiles walks them out before jumping into his own Jeep. He promises Scott to meet him at his place for lunch since Melissa will be there today. He waves them off before making his way to the supermarket.

 

He's on isle three trying to work out the difference between sunflower oil and canola oil when he notices Cora pushing a cart and checking out some racks at the end of the isle. She looks up in time to see him looking at her and he can't help the smile that creeps onto his face. She smiles back and waves before making her way over to him.

 

"Hey," she says stopping when their carts collide.

 

"'Morning." He's still grinning.

 

"How are you?"

 

"Yeah, I'm good," he replies and he almost cringes at the look on her face. "Cora, if we're gonna be friends, you're gonna have to stop looking at me like I'm a wounded bird," he lets out before he can stop himself.

 

She chuckles and looks at the ground. This is what he likes about Cora so much. That despite knowing her for such a short period of time, he can let himself be brutally honest with her. 

 

"Sorry," she mutters, looking up at him. "You look like you're having some trouble here."

 

"Yeah, I'm trying to tell difference between all these kinds of oils but it's proving to be a hassle," he mutters turning his attention over to the rack. 

 

"I wish I could help, but I know nothing when it comes to cooking. It's just that I went to the apartment and it looked so empty and I seriously don't know how Derek is not dead of hunger yet so I thought I'd do some shopping."

 

"Yes, I can see that," Stiles says, sounding amused when he looks into her cart. "Derek's apartment obviously needs twenty packs of Cheetos."

 

"Shut up," Cora mutters blushing.

 

Stiles chuckles at her but otherwise drops the subject.

 

"So, how did last night go?" He asks grabbing a random bottle off the shelf and throwing it in the cart. He pushes his trolley forward and Cora turns to push hers in time with his.

 

"It was... Yeah, it was okay," Cora says and there's a secret smile on her lips that Stiles doesn't miss.

 

"What happened? Did you tell him?"

 

"Tell Isaac that I'm into him? Of course not!" Cora replies.

 

"Good to know honesty seems so appalling to you," Stiles can't help but comment. 

 

"Shut up," she mutters nudging him playfully. "I just don't take rejection well. And I mean, after last night, I'm more hopeful than before, but there is no way I'm telling him anything unless I'm completely sure he feels the same."

 

"Okay," Stiles says throwing a peanut butter jar into his cart. Cora throws two into hers. He throws her another amused look and she shrugs. "So what happened then?"

 

"He doesn't like Allison. Not in that way. Not anymore."

 

"Not anymore?" Stiles questions, raising an eyebrow. 

 

"That's what he said. And that's actually why I'm more hopeful. He said that it's not like that between them and that he's into someone else. He said that she was gone for a while so he maybe thought for a second about asking Allison out but then he couldn't do it because of Scott. And apparently the girl he likes is back but he's waiting for a sign to know whether or not she's interested."

 

"Jesus, Cora, and you didn't just yell this is a sign in his face??" Stiles practically yells, flailing his arms in the air and Cora looks around to make sure no one's looking at them. Stiles winces at his own voice and lowers his tone to an almost whisper. "Seriously, how much clearer can it get?"

 

" I don't know," Cora says looking flustered. "I just- Derek wouldn't like it and I don't think I can hand-"

 

"Bullshit. All this is telling me is that you're scared." Stiles interrupts before she can continue. 

 

"Look, I'll tell him in my own time. Just, don't push it." 

 

"I won't," Stiles says sighing. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable," he continues, rubbing his head a little and stopping in front of the cereal rack. He throws a box of chocolate covered flakes into his cart while Cora gets some Cheerios. "I just care a surprising amount about you people even though I've just met you."

 

"That's because you haven't really forgotten us, I told you that yesterday," Cora says, smiling knowingly as they resume walking.

 

"It's really hard to believe that sometimes," he mutters. "Maybe if I really did, I'd know how to understand Lydia."

 

"Speaking of our lovely banshee, how are things going on that front?" 

 

"You tell me. I haven't talked to her since yesterday morning," Stiles says and he can't help the sadness that takes over him. He misses her. 

 

"Hey," Cora says, touching his arm lightly. "Don't worry about it, she's just going through a hard time. We need to be there for her. If there's one thing I've learned about Lydia Martin, it's that the more she pushes you away, the more she needs you. And seeing as she's pushing you away the most..."

 

"I sound so pathetic but that sucks," Stiles says.

 

"Yeah well, maybe you should take a leaf out of your own book and be honest with her."

 

"Shut up, smartass," he says, smiling a little. They're near the cash registers now. "Hey, how did you get here?"

 

"I took the bus."

 

"Oh. Well, I'll drive you home."

 

"No, Stiles, you really don't have to, I'll be f-"

 

"I could use the distraction so stop complaining," he interrupts.

 

"Thanks," Cora says smiling. 

 

\-------------------------------------

 

She doesn't get a lot of sleep. She spends half the night trying not to think about Stiles and the other half thinking about him and she hates herself because she's Lydia Martin and she should be able to move on from anyone if she wants to. Except Stiles, it seems. 

 

She's still awake when Cora and Allison make their way into her bed silently. She snuggles up to them and tries very hard to stop thinking about Cora and Stiles on that couch. She's surprised at how much she likes the girl and how little she blames her. It's her own fault Stiles wants to move on and Cora's good for him. 

 

She squeezes her eyes shut to keep the tears from falling. 

 

After the little sleep she gets, she wakes up with a wetness on her pillow and tear tracks on her face.

 

She gets into the shower as soon as she's up to try and rid herself of her dark thoughts. It only serves to clean her body but not her mind.

 

She misses Stiles so much and she knows it's not healthy. She doesn't even understand how he became the most important person in her life. Maybe because he was always there for her. Probably because he saved her so many times. Mostly because he always put her first when everyone else brushed her over to the sidelines.

 

She's so stupid. Why did she realize it too late? She couldn't love him back when he was safe and healthy and remembered her? Only he was never really safe and healthy. He was so burdened and tired trying to protect everyone, most of all her. She misses him more than she should. 

 

She resigns herself to calling him later in the day.

 

Cora leaves around ten and Allison stays till noon. They make plans for later and Lydia tells Allison she's going to stock up on some things for the house. 

 

She heads over to the grocery store. She's just parked and getting out of the car when she notices him leaving the supermarket and pushing a cart in front of him. He looks tired but so good and Lydia can't help the smile that graces her lips. The same smile that's gone a second later when Cora follows him out the door pushing another cart. She says something to him and Stiles turns to look at her with a wide grin. He waits until she's next to him before giving her a light shove. She manages to keep steady on her feet but they're both laughing now. 

 

Lydia looks away by the time they're climbing into his Jeep and starts walking into the store. She tries really hard to think about something other than what she just saw, but her heart squeezes a little every time her mind goes back to how happy they looked. This must be why Cora ran out of her house so fast this morning. 

 

She manages to get everything she needs for the house but it takes so much effort to do so. She's tired and sad and there's tiny little shards where her heart's supposed to be.

 

She's walking out of the store when her phone comes alive. She looks at the screen to see Stiles calling. Her heart squeezes again and she wants to cry. She contemplates not answering, but he won't stop asking about her if he thinks she's not okay because it's Stiles and he doesn't give up on his friends despite everything. So she'll just have to pretend she's okay.

 

"Hey Stiles," she says cheerfully and she's reminded of another time she tried to fool him with this same exact tone. It took him a second to let her know he was aware she was following him back then. 

 

"Hey," he says and she senses a tinge of hope in his voice. "How are you doing?"

 

"Yeah, I'm good," she says with a pep in her voice trying to keep up her charade. "I'm just running some errands."

 

"Oh," he manages to get out and he sounds a little surprised if a little doubtful. "Well, um, I just, I wanted to see if you wanted to have lunch over at Scott's. Or maybe do something after. Or at night. Um. Whatever works for you."

 

"Oh." Why is he doing this to her? She doesn't want him to care or be nice. She wants to hate him. "Um, I can't. I'm, um, I- my mom. She's back in town, so I'm spending the day with her."

 

"Oh."

 

She hates that he sounds so sad. She hates herself for making him sound so sad. 

 

"Yeah, that's, um, great," he stutters. 

 

"Maybe another time?" She can't help but say because he shouldn't sound so let down.

 

"Yeah, sure. Um, sorry, I gotta hang up, I got another call."

 

"Yeah, yeah, of course. Bye, Stiles."

 

"Yeah, bye."

 

This time she can't stop the tears from falling when she hears him hang up.

 

\-------------------------------------

 

He hangs up and closes his eyes for a second to take a breath. Now he's sure something's wrong. He's not buying the whole her mother is in town act, and even if he is, she was singing an entirely different tune a couple of days ago. 

 

Maybe she decided the whole thing isn't worth it after all. That he isn't worth it. Stiles feels a lump form in his throat at the thought of Lydia giving up on him. He's just so tired and for the first time, he thinks people can tell. Something he does remember from before his accident is that he was always so good at hiding his real feelings and putting on a brave face. But he doesn't seem to be able to do that lately.

 

He shakes Lydia out of his thoughts and grabs his keys off the kitchen counter. He takes one last look around the kitchen to make sure all the groceries are packed, and when he's satisfied with the result, he walks out of the house and jumps into his car.

 

Allison, Cora, and Isaac have just made it to Scott's house when he gets there.

 

"I thought you were picking Lydia up?" Scott asks the minute Stiles walks into the kitchen. Everyone turns to look at him and he suddenly feels nervous.

 

"Yeah, she said her mom's back in town and she's spending the day with her," he's quick to reply and he tries not to show the sadness in his voice.

 

"No she's not," Allison says raising her eyebrows. 

 

"That's what she told me." His fears are confirmed.

 

"Yeah, well, she's lying," Allison states. "She was going to get some groceries and then go back home. We said we'd meet for lunch."

 

"Wait, groceries?" Cora asks suddenly like she knows something. "What time was that?"

 

"A little after noon, why?" Allison says and Stiles suddenly knows what's wrong. He and Cora share a look and he knows she's on the same page as him.

 

"She probably saw us there. She always thought there was something going on here," he mutters and he can't help the bite in his voice. She also saw him with Cora on the couch and at her front door. She's already pretty much told him she thinks he's into Cora, so why didn't he realize the problem sooner? Probably because it was so evident in his mind that he and Cora were just friends that it was so hard to imagine anyone else thinking otherwise.

 

"Jesus, Lydia," Cora mutters sadly.

 

"Wait, so there isn't anything going on between you two?" Isaac asks and Stiles feels his anger suddenly directed at the curly-haired beta. Seriously, is he really so blind?

 

"Oh my God, Isaac, are you an idiot?" He starts to say so loud he's almost shouting. "She's in-"

 

"Stiles!" Cora tries to stop him. He turns to look at her for a second but then decides that if she won't help herself, he'll help her.

 

"This is your sign!" He yells at Isaac. "We," he continues swinging his hand back and forth between him and Cora, "are just friends and we have no intention of being anything else."

 

Cora looks like she's on fire and Stiles feels bad for a second but Isaac needs to know. And it's probably working because Isaac is suddenly looking at Cora like she's the second coming.

 

"I'm going to talk to Lydia," she mutters, grabbing Stiles' keys from his hand and running out of the kitchen. "I'm taking the Jeep!" She yells before slamming the front door shut. 

 

"Great," Stiles mumbles angrily walking out of the kitchen.

 

He's really only angry at himself for not realizing it sooner, and he feels like such a jerk for exposing Cora's secret and calling Isaac an idiot. He might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but sure as hell didn't deserve that. He's helping them, he knows, and what he just did needed to be done sooner or later, but he shouldn't have been the one to say it. At least not like that.

 

His breathing is getting heavy, and it only gets worse when he thinks about his life and _how did it all get so messed up?_

 

His best friend is a werewolf and the girl he's into is a banshee and he's part of a pack - a freaking pack - and his dad was kidnapped by god-knows-what and it's all too much to process in such a short amount of time.

 

He feels the walls close in on him and his knees buckle and somewhere in the back of his mind the image of Scott with an inhaler flashes and he suddenly knows exactly where in Scott's room he can find it. He's hyperventilating and he barely makes it to the room without falling down the stairs. He hears Scott follow him into the room calling for him but he's too busy rifling through the first drawer of the bedside table to acknowledge him. 

 

He can't find the inhaler and it's all too much and he can't breathe anymore. He finally gives in and drops to his knees and there's an air of familiarity to the way he's slumped on the floor, knees and hands trying to pull his weight up. 

 

His head's about to explode and he can barely see through the tears - he's not crying but somehow the tears won't stop - and he feels Scott drop into a crouching position in front of him. His ears are buzzing and he's about to give into the blackness taking over him when he looks up at Scott, only instead of his best friend, Lydia's there, looking at him like he's her whole world, a loose braid falling on her left shoulder, and suddenly he knows what to do. 

 

It takes all of his willpower to clamp his hand over his own mouth in a frantic attempt to force himself to hold his breath. For a second, he's not sure it's working, and he feels the darkness consuming him. But then it starts to slowly pull away, like a dark cloud evaporating and he can see again.

 

Scott's kneeling down in front of him and he's not sure he's ever seen him look so worried. Melissa's right next to him and he doesn't even remember how or when she got there. His ears stop ringing and suddenly he can hear everything.

 

"Here you go," Melissa's whispering over his loud breathing while pushing his hair back in such a motherly way it makes him want to cry. "Here you go, Stiles, nice and easy," she continues.

 

He feels his breathing start to slow down but it's still way too fast for comfort. Images of Lydia in a blue dress flash through his mind again and he feels himself slowly relaxing. 

 

"You us- you ha- you, you had an inhaler here," he manages to let out through gulps of air pointing at the drawer by Scott's bed. It's still open and there's papers and notebooks and condoms littering the area around it. 

 

"Yeah," Scott whispers, trying to catch his own breath. He notices the condoms at the same time Melissa does and the tips of his ears turn pink.

 

"Sorry," Stiles mutters, hastily reaching for the rubbers and throwing them into the drawer before shutting it. 

 

Melissa lets out a small chuckle before reaching over to Stiles and pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Call out if you need me," she tells him before getting up on her feet and walking out of the room. 

 

"You do realize you have the best mother, right?" Stiles can't help but say as he settles down on the floor to lean his back against Scott's bed. 

 

"That I do," Scott agrees, moving over to sit next to Stiles. "So, what was that, man?" He asks after a minute of quiet. "You haven't had a panic attack since we were little."

 

"I haven't?" Stiles asks, slightly confused. 

 

"Not as far as I know," Scott says. "And I don't remember you ever being able to pull yourself out of one, but you just did that." He turns to look at him. "How did you do that?"

 

"Lydia," Stiles whispers and he can't help the wonder in his voice because he's trying to understand it himself. "I think she's pulled me out of a panic attack before."

 

"But Lydia was never there when you had your panic attacks. We were too young back then."

 

"Which is even weirder because I could swear I saw Lydia tell me to hold my breath. And she was grown up Lydia, like I know her today. I don't know, that sounds so weird, but she was wearing blue, and she had a braid down her back, and I think we were in a locker room," Stiles says, trying to remember the vision that came to him during his attack. "I don't know, it sounds stupid. It's all bits and pieces so it could be my imagination," he continues, looking down and playing with an imaginary thread on the carpet.

 

"Or it could be a memory," Scott says. "I mean, you did remember where I used to keep my inhaler."

 

"Used to?" 

 

"I don't use it anymore," Scott explains. "One of the perks of being a mythical creature of the night."

 

Stiles snorts a little.

 

"Maybe Lydia can tell us if it's a memory when she gets here," Scott says.

 

"Maybe."

 

\-------------------------------------

 

She's moping around on her couch when Cora literally barges into her house like the world's come to an end. She can't help it when she jumps off the couch startled. She tries to remember when it was that she gave Cora the keys to her house. She's staring at Cora with wide eyes when she notices Stiles' keychain in her hand and her heart skips a beat. She kind of wants to cry. 

 

"I like Isaac," Cora says without missing a beat.

 

"Wh-" Lydia starts to say. "You barge into my h-" She tries again. "Wait, what?" She finally asks, trying to keep her thoughts straight. Did she hear her right?

 

"I like Isaac," Cora repeats, moving closer to Lydia. "I know you think I like Stiles and you're trying to do the right thing by him and give him space or some other dumb noble shit that I can't understand, but Stiles and I are not together."

 

"Um, okay?" Lydia stutters unsure how to feel. She wants to be mad at Cora because she has the nerve to show up to her house like she owns it with Stiles' keys in hand - and Christ, is that Stiles's Jeep in her driveway? - but she think she's trying to tell her something important, something good, expect that her mind refuses to process what she's hearing. 

 

"There was maybe three seconds when we first met where we thought maybe, you know, we could give it a go or something since he's single and I'm single, except that it turns out I have a thing for curly-haired unruly betas and he has a thing for neurotic strawberry blondes called Lydia Martin," Cora continues like she needs to get everything out or she'll die. 

 

"But, but, you guys get along so well," Lydia blurts out before she can stop herself. She doesn't even understand why she's saying that, Cora is telling her good news, but she's so used to things going bad for her that her mind refuses to accept anything in her favor.

 

"We do," Cora agrees wholeheartedly, taking another step in her direction and she's at an arm's length now. "We get along so well and we agree on almost everything and we can be so honest with one another. Except that the only thing we talk about is you and Isaac, and not together, but in separate entities, as in about Isaac where I'm concerned, and you where Stiles is concerned."

 

Lydia has to take a moment to breathe because every crazy thought that's gone through her mind the past few days has been just that, a crazy thought. 

 

"And Jesus, Lydia, even if I wasn't so infatuated with that stupid cocky idiot of a wolf, it would still not work out because for Stiles, it's always been you. It was you when he first saw you, and it was you when you made out with Scott, and it was you when you blew him off at formal to go find Jackson, and it was still you when you chose to hook up with every guy in Beacon Hills except for Stiles. Hell, he got into a car crash and lost his fucking memory and it is still you!"

 

There's anger in Cora's eyes and Lydia can't fault her that because she's fucked up so much when it comes to Stiles and she deserves all this blame no matter how much it hurts.

 

"This is exactly why I tried to get out of his way," Lydia whispers after a moment and she feels so small. She's looking at the ground but then she looks up to meet Cora's eyes. "I've done so many horrible things, Cora, and I've been so many horrible things, and he deserves so much, so much, more than I'll ever be worth, and you're good to him." She's mumbling now, and the tears she's trying to hold back are threatening to fall.

 

"And all that doesn't matter because he still wants you," Cora whispers, taking another step and reaching out for Lydia's hand. "We almost lost him, Lyds," Cora continues and her voice cracks when she says her name. Lydia can't hold her tears anymore, especially not when she notices one roll down Cora's cheek. She squeezes her hand. "What would you have done if we'd lost him?"

 

She can't even think about something happening to Stiles. He's not allowed to get hurt. She's taken back to another moment in time, so different from now. The roles were reversed back then, and she realizes she's exactly on the same page now.

 

_If you die, I will literally go out of my freaking mind._

 

"And don't you dare say you don't deserve him," Cora continues in a chastising tone, snapping her out of her thoughts. "Yeah, you've screwed up, but who hasn't? The important thing is that you make up for it now that you know better."

 

"When did you get so smart?" Lydia manages to get out through her tears and Cora chuckles.

 

"You know, your boyfriend said the exact same thing to me last night," Cora says.

 

She wants to roll her eyes at Cora because Stiles is not her boyfriend but she's also a little giddy and there are tear tracks on her face.

 

"Come on, go get changed or wash your face or wear shoes or something. They're waiting for us."

 

"Oh God," Lydia sighs, self-conscious. "They all know I'm here drowning in self-pity, don't they?"

 

"Yeah, but rest assured, Stiles just told Isaac I'm into him - which is your fault by the way - so you won't feel like the most awkward person there."

 

"How is this my fault?"

 

"I don't know, but it is," Cora says, getting all flustered.

 

"I can't believe you're into Isaac," Lydia says smiling and Cora can't stop her cheeks from burning. "Oh my God, you're blushing, that is so cute."

 

"Shut up," Cora mutters. "Glad to know you like me again."

 

"Hey, that's not fair. My biggest problem was that I couldn't bring myself to hate you even though I thought you were hooking up with Stiles."

 

"Good to know," Cora says, laughing. "Now stop stalling and go get changed."

 

\-------------------------------------

 

He doesn't remember much about his old life, but he's pretty sure the wait is the longest thirty minutes of his life.

 

He feels his heart stop when he finally hears the sound of his Jeep coming into the driveway. What if she's not with Cora? What if they thought wrong and she just doesn't want anything to do with him? 

 

He walks into the hallway to stand in front of the door. He's fidgety and nervous and he can't stop biting his nails. Isaac and Scott have already beat him to the door and Allison follows him after a second. It opens not a minute later and in comes Cora followed by Lydia, and Stiles can breathe again. 

 

She looks so tiny in her oversized sweater. She's skipped the heels again in favor or a pair of purple Chuck Taylor high tops and her hair's piled in a messy bun on top of her head.

 

Their eyes meet as soon as she's in and Stiles feels his stomach do a back flip.

 

Everyone's standing there staring at each other and it's all way too weird for his liking and he thinks he should say something but Cora beats him to the punch.

 

"Yeah, so, as much as I'm enjoying this awkward exchange, I'm going to go ahead and move to help Melissa in the kitchen."

 

She walks out of the room and it's all the invitation Isaac needs to follow her out. 

 

"I'm starving, so I'm just gonna go," Scott says before hastily pressing a kiss to Lydia's forehead. "Good to have you back," Stiles hears him whisper before walking out the room. Allison follows him without a word, only turning to wink at Lydia. 

 

It's just the two of them now, and he wants nothing more than to hug her but he also doesn't want to do anything she wouldn't like so he stands there waiting for her to make the first move. He doesn't have to wait for much longer, because a second later she closes the distance between them and loops her arms around his waist before burying her face into his shirt. That's all the invitation he needs. He locks his arms tight around her and buries his face in her hair. He can't stop himself from pressing kisses there.

 

"I'm sorry," he feels more than hears her whisper.

 

"Shhh, it's okay," he whispers back. 

 

What he really wants to say is that he'll go crazy if she ever blows him off again, but that sounds a little stalker-ish even in his head, so he keeps his quiet.

 

"I didn't mean to make you worry," she mumbles before pulling away a little to look up at him.

 

He loosens his hold on her a little so he can get a better look at her, but neither lets go of the other. 

 

"Just, don't ever do that again," he can't help but say. "We have to be honest with each other."

 

"I know, I know," she whispers, nodding and lowering her gaze to the floor.

 

"No, Lydia, listen to me," Stiles insists putting a finger under her chin and tilting her head upwards so that their eyes meet again.

 

He wants to be honest with her, but he's worried it might freak her out. Only, he doesn't think he can stand her walking out on him again. Screw it.

 

"I like you," he finally admits and she looks at him with eyes so wide they scare him at first. "More than you know," he continues gathering the courage to really say what's on his mind. "More than I should seeing as I've known you for a week." He tucks a stray lock behind her ear and she leans into his touch. He doesn't let go and instead he puts his palm to her cheek. "So I need you to tell me what's on your mind. You can't just pull away like that and leave me hanging. If you don't feel the same way," he starts to say, "or if this is proving to be too much for you, you nee-"

 

"No. no, no no no. Stiles," Lydia interrupts shaking her head vehemently and putting her hand over his on her cheek. She clasps her fingers around its edges and Stiles thinks she's about to remove it but then she moves it to press a kiss into his palm and he feels his heart stutter. "Never," she whispers her eyes locked on his. "I'm just, I'm scared, Stiles, of the way I feel for you. And sometimes it feels like it's easier to pull away than to admit that you could break my heart so easily if you wanted to."

 

"Lydia, I would never-" he starts to say holding on tighter because he's suddenly so afraid of losing her.

 

"No, no, Stiles," she interrupts again. "I know," she says nodding. "I know," she repeats. "Please just let me say this," she pleads and Stiles nods. She takes a deep breath. "You were always there for me," she starts. "Always there when I needed you, no questions asked. You were even there when I didn't know I needed you." He can see her eyes start to water and he feels his heart break a little. "And I was so bad to you," she continues and one single tear makes its way down her cheek but he quickly wipes it away with his thumb. 

 

_You made out with Scott. You blew him off at formal to go find Jackson.  You chose every guy in Beacon Hills except for Stiles._

 

"But you never cared, Stiles," she continues. "You never gave up on me despite my best efforts to make you," she admits. "And when that failed, I finally accepted it. That you were it for me. And I stayed away from you for so long because you could be the one to break me. And then, you went and had your accident," she continues and Stiles just wants her to stop talking because he never wants to see her look so sad but he also needs to hear this. He needs to know. "And it was like my world fell apart around me. Our world, really, the entire pack, because you held us together and you were always the strong one, so to see you lying helplessly in a bed hooked up to those machines," she continues, a few more tears making their way down her face and Stiles feels his own eyes water. "It was like going through hell. And I realized then that as easy as you could break me, losing you was so much worse." She stops for a second to wipe her eyes and take a breath. "When you woke up, you didn't remember us, and it was so hard and crazy, but at the same time, you were okay and that's all that mattered. And then you said you wanted to remember, and despite everything, you still treat me like you used to. You don't remember me, Stiles, but you still treat me the same. You still like me the same, and you still put my needs first. And that's scary. It's so scary because no one should have someone care about them so much."

 

"So you don't want this?" Stiles asks, pulling his hand away feeling his heart ache.

 

"No no no," Lydia says, her eyes wide as she frantically reaches for his hand before pulling it back and pressing it to her cheek again. "No, don't let go," she explains, gathering her thoughts. "Yes, I do want this." 

 

"Good," Stiles manages to say, a small smile gracing his lips. The relief he feels is so overwhelming, he doesn't know how to fully process it. This is really happening. Lydia wants to be with him.

 

"But I scare easy," she continues. "So if you ever feel me pull away, just hold on tighter."

 

"I will," he promises.

 

"Good," she echoes, smiling through her tears.

 

"Now about that thing you did when we were in your room yesterday morning," he starts to say and he can't help the cheeky smile on his face. He might be pushing his luck, but dammit he wants to kiss her.

 

"I did a thing?" She asks coyly, her stomach doing flip flops at the memory. "What thing?"

 

"I thought I was the one with the memory issues, but if you're trying to tell me you don't want a repeat of that, I can just-"

 

"Shut up, Stiles," she orders, pulling on his shirt a little so that their noses almost touch.

 

Her toes are straining to pull her up and for a second she wishes she was in her heels, but then Stiles' arm wraps securely around her waist and it's enough to pull her weight up and relieve her toes. 

 

He keeps his other hand on her cheek and she loops her arms around his neck and starts playing with the hairs on the back. 

 

It feels like forever before their lips meet and Stiles wonders why they don't do this every single second they're together. It's slow and tentative at first, their lips molding around each other and fitting together perfectly. He feels Lydia pull his head further down and open her mouth a little and when her hot breath tickles his lips, the kiss becomes more frantic. Careful pecks turn into searing kisses and it's like they're racing to get as much of each other as they can. Stiles doesn't remember ever feeling so good. He feels her tongue glide over his lower lip and he can't help but moan a little. _Tease_. He feels her smile against his lips at the small victory. She's not getting away with this so easy. He pulls her lower lip between his teeth, sucking gently on the pink flesh. The sound that comes out of her mouth shoots straight into his groin and he thinks maybe she's still winning after all. But if this is how it feels to lose then call him loser any day.

 

"So, this is not what I needed to see before lunch," they hear someone say and they jump apart so fast, Lydia actually has to reach out for his hand to keep him for falling. 

 

They look to see Isaac and Scott standing there. Isaac's got a disgusted look on his face and Scott looks like a proud father and it would freak Stiles out if he wasn't so busy trying to hide the evident tent in his jeans. 

 

He opens and closes his mouth a few times trying to come up with a plausible explanation as to why he was eating Lydia's face a second ago, but it proves useless.

 

"Yeah, I'm just gonna... bathroom," he says, awkwardly pointing in the supposed direction of the bathroom. 

 

He starts walking in that direction. 

 

"Hey, Stiles?" Scott asks before he's too far. Stiles turns to look back at his friend. "Bathroom's that way," Scott says, pointing the other way. 

 

"Right," Stiles says, feeling himself heat up even more. 

 

He looks at Lydia and she's got lipstick smeared on her chin. He stops in front of her for a second to wipe the pale pink goo with his thumb. 

 

"You've got a little..." He mumbles and he sees her look up at him and smile a little before she reaches out her own hand to wipe at his lips. 

 

She's flushed and her hair's a mess and her lips look swollen and she's just so beautiful. He's tempted to lean in and kiss her again, but Scott and Isaac are still standing there watching them like a bunch of perverts. 

 

He forces himself to tear his gaze away from her and to start walking away because his jeans are getting tight and he really doesn't need everyone knowing that. 

 

"Ugh, you couldn't let them make up in peace, could you?" Cora asks, passing through with two plates full of pasta Bolognese in hand. 

 

She hands one over to Isaac and he takes it before following her into the living room. 

 

"It was more like making out, not up, and it didn't look like they were planning to stop!" Stiles hears Isaac say.

 

He's really way too happy to feel embarrassed.

 

\-------------------------------------

 

She doesn't want to smile like an idiot, but she can't stop smiling like an idiot. But she really should stop, because she's Lydia Martin for god's sake, and Lydia Martin does not act like a school girl with a crush. Except maybe where Stiles is involved. That seems to be her only way of action when it comes to him.

 

Allison comes in with another two plates as soon as Cora and Isaac are out the door and she hands one over to Lydia. 

 

"I see someone's gotten lucky," Allison whispers, a knowing smile on her lips. 

 

"Lucky is an understatement," Lydia mumbles following Allison into the living room. 

 

The brunette turns to shoot her best friend the biggest grin and Lydia can't help but return it. Allison's smile has always been infectious. Add Lydia's current giddy state to that and you've got an all out grin fest like no other. 

 

Lydia takes a seat on the floor, leaning her back against the couch where Allison and Scott are seated. She settles down before taking a forkful of pasta and turning to look at Isaac and Cora over on the other couch. 

 

They're sitting on either end of the three-person-couch and there's an air of awkwardness to them, probably due to the fact that both are now aware they're into each other but they don't know how to go on from there. Their bodies are angled towards each other and they keep sneaking glances at one another when they think the other one isn't look. 

 

Lydia wonders how she never noticed that before, just how perfect together they are, but she's pulled out of her thoughts when Stiles walks into the room with a plate in hand. He doesn't seem to think about it when he makes a beeline her way and plops down on the floor beside her.

 

She's trying to hide her smile when she turns to look at him. He looks back at her like he can't believe she's there, and he can't stop himself from leaning over to kiss her cheek. He doesn't seem to care that everyone's probably watching them, so she doesn't care either. Her smile widens and she scoots closer to him before each turns back to their plate. 

 

Derek comes in with Chris and Sheriff Stilinski a while later and Lydia knows it's bad news because the Sheriff is supposed to be at the station working. 

 

Isaac and Cora tense up marginally when Derek shows up and Lydia wonders if there's a lot more that's stopping them from being together than she thinks. She'll ask Cora about it later. 

 

The Sheriff goes into the kitchen and comes out a few minutes later with Melissa in tow. Their faces are flushed and Lydia can't help but smile. She looks over at Stiles, only to see him and Scott sharing a shit-eating-grin.

 

Their parents each hand a plate to Derek and Chris before they dig into their own. Only the sound of cutlery can be heard until Stiles' dad decides to break the silence. 

 

"So, there's been some development on the Aiden case," he starts and just like that he has everyone's attention. "I think you all know Chris has been keeping tabs on Deucalion and Jennifer since their disappearance. He's supposedly somewhere in Texas, and Jennifer's fled the country all together."

 

"Last I heard of her, she was at the border heading over to Canada," Chris jumps in.

 

"Now, you know we've been trying to cover as much ground as possible to find out what exactly happened to Aiden," Sheriff Stilinski picks up. "Given the nature of Danny's relationship with the other twin, we thought it best to look into him as well."

 

"But Danny would never do anything," Lydia is quick to object.

 

"Yeah, Danny's just an innocent bystander in all of this," Scott agrees and there's an edge to his voice that's not there very often.

 

"No, you're misunderstanding. We don't think the boy's a threat. We think he could be in danger, too, especially that Ethan has been staying with him for the better part of the summer." 

 

"Oh," Stiles says. He's finished eating and has already set his plate aside to concentrate on what his dad is saying. 

 

Lydia's stopped eating as well, partly because she's lost her appetite over her worry for Danny. She tenses up at the thought of someone hurting him, but Stiles' hand is in hers a second later, his fingers holding on to hers like an anchor, and just like that, she feels herself relax. Stiles squeezes her hand, and she understands it for what it is. _I'm here for you._  

 

"Now, you know Danny lives right next to the mayor's house. The mayor installed security cameras last year after his home got broken into," Chris continues. "His cameras are reset every week."

 

"He owes me a favor," Sheriff Stilinski explains, "so we've got access to his cameras. I reviewed last week's tapes, and nothing suspicious came on."

 

Lydia feels herself deflate because what is the point of all this if they didn't find anything? They seem to be going in circles. 

 

"But this," the Sheriff continues pulling out a picture out of his jacket pocket. "This was taken this morning right by the mayor's house."

 

"Jesus, not this crap again," Isaac mutters, dropping his plate on the table in front of him.

 

Lydia feels her heart speed up.

 

The picture's small and slightly blurry, but there's no mistaking him. The only difference is his hair's slightly shorter and his trusted cane's nowhere to be found. 

 

Deucalion.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It feels good to finally be able to upload this! It's been almost ready for over a week and I had no time to finish it! But yay now it's done. I'm not very happy with it (I never am happy with my writing tbh) but I just didn't want to drag it out for longer. It's a big filler tbh, but shit gets real after this one and the pace will probably pick up a little. I hope you guys like it anyway!

There's a long moment of silence after Sheriff Stilinski shows the picture, broken suddenly by everyone speaking together at the same time. Lydia shuts off a little at that point. She's too tired to deal with this. The last time Deucalion was in town, all sorts of bad things happened. The Darach came to town, their parents got kidnapped, Scott nearly gave up on his pack, and they almost lost Stiles. 

 

Lydia feels her heart speed up in fear at the thought of having to go through that again, and just as he always does, Stiles seems to sense her distress. He squeezes her hand before leaning in.

 

"Let's go for some fresh air," he whispers.

 

Lydia doesn't have to be told twice. She gets up quickly and she feels momentarily cold at the loss of contact. But then Stiles' hand is on her lower back, guiding her lightly, and she feels whole again. 

 

"Porch," she hears him tell Scott when he asks them where they're going. 

 

He pulls her into a hug the minute they're out the door, and it's like he knows exactly that she needed that. It doesn't matter that anyone walking by can see them. She's not ashamed to be seem with him, and she realizes that strangely enough, she never was.

 

"Sorry," he mumbles when they pull away. "I just, um, needed to do that," he explains, looking a little unsure so Lydia takes his hand in hers.

 

"Don't ever apologize for something like this," she whispers, turning to walk towards the swing and pulling Stiles with her. 

 

She's so tired. Emotionally more than anything. They've gone through so much and they still can't seem to catch a break. It just seems like every time things start looking up, something bad has to happen. 

 

She settles down on the swing and can't stop herself from dropping her head on Stiles' shoulder. It's all the invitation he needs. He pulls away from her and she worries for a second that she bothered him but then he puts his arm around her and holds her close to him. She snuggles into his shoulder and he holds her even tighter.

 

She's tired and scared and worried beyond belief, but if this is the price she has to pay in order to be able to held like that by Stiles, then she wouldn't trade it for the world. 

 

She snuggles even closer into him before she rests her hand on his heart. She feels the steady thump thump thump and it feels like her lifeline. She smiles when he presses a kiss into her hair and her own heart skips a beat. She's fallen so hard for him, sometimes it's impossible to remember a time she didn't feel this way. 

 

"Tell me something about us, from before," he whispers into her hair and she feels the sound reverberate in his chest.

 

"Like a memory?" She asks, tilting her head upwards to look at him. 

 

"Yeah, or just about us in general," he says, lowering his own head to meet her eyes. 

 

They're so close they might as well be kissing. But now is not the time for that, she knows. 

 

This is exactly what makes her and Stiles different from anything she's had before. She wants to jump his bones more often than not, but she also wants to talk to him, and know everything about him, and do stupid boring things like research with him. She wants to tell him her secrets and she wants to cheer him at his Lacrosse games and she wants to do things to him between the sheets that she hasn't wanted to do to anyone before. 

 

"Stuff like how we used to be around each other. Were we friends? Did we hang out? Was it socially acceptable to be seen with you at school?" He continues, effectively snapping her out of her thoughts.

 

"I was a bitch to you for half of our lives," she says in a low voice and she's so ashamed of that. She wasted so much time pushing him away when they could've been together.

 

"You've said that about twenty times in the past week," he sighs into her hair. "I don't want to hear you say it anymore, Lyds. It's not like you owed me anything. I was a schoolboy with a crush and you didn't feel the same way." There's truth and acceptance in his voice, but there's also a sadness there that seems to cut her up inside.

 

"Yeah but the problem is I did feel the same way towards the end, but I never allowed myself to accept it. Not until I thought I lost you."

 

"But you've accepted it now. And you've got me," he says it like it's the most natural thing.

 

The werewolves in the house must be very worried if they're listening to her heartbeat because at this point, it's skipped so many times she might be eligible for a transplant. 

 

She can feel his long fingers ghost over her arm and it feels so impossibly good, she almost loses her train of thought.

 

"Now, I want to hear good things," he continues.

 

"Alright, good things," she echoes, smiling into his chest. "We made quite the detective duo, you and I."

 

"Yeah?" He asks, and she can feel him smile into her hair.

 

"Yeah. We figured out most of the stuff about the Darach on our own."

 

"How very Mulder and Scully of us."

 

"Okay, I'm thinking about getting offended because you seem to be able to remember the x-files, but not me," she says, pulling back to look at Stiles. 

 

His arm falls off her shoulder and she almost regrets moving.

 

"Don't be." He chuckles. "I watched that show so much when I was little, it's now impossible for me to forget it even if I wanted to," he explains. "Besides, Cora says I still remember you guys, even if I'm not aware of it."

 

For a second, she cringes at him mentioning Cora. It almost feels like second nature now to feel jealous whenever she's mentioned. Especially when it's Stiles doing the mentioning. But then she remembers everything that happened this afternoon, and Cora begging her to not let go of them, and Stiles kissing her like she's never been kissed before. She relaxes before taking one of Stiles's hands in both of hers and moving it to her lap. She still feels a little bit territorial if she's being completely honest. She starts playing with his fingers and she sees him smile a little from the corner of her eye.

 

"What makes her think that?" She asks, her eyes glued to the hand in her lap. She loves how long his fingers are.

 

"She says I wouldn't be so comfortable with this," he says, gesturing to their hands in her lap with his free one, "if I didn't."

 

"And here I thought it was my natural charm that lured you back so easily," she jokes, turning to look at him but never letting go of his hand. 

 

"Well, I never said I thought Cora was entirely right," he says, sending a small smile her way and pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. He's fully turned by now and is facing her, one of his legs tucked between the two of them, and the other dangling off the side of the swing. She mirrors his position and turns to face him, never letting go of his hand. His other arm is resting on the back of the swing, his fingers ghosting over the right side of her face. "For all we know, it is your charm that pulled me in. After all, you are kind of irresistible." 

 

"So I've been told," she says and she can't stop herself from leaning into his hand. 

 

She thinks this might be her favorite part of her new-found thing with Stiles, those little touches and gestures he does that make the butterflies in her stomach start a riot. When he pushes her hair back or he links his fingers with hers or he looks at her like she's the most important thing in the world. She doesn't like using the word thing to define what's going on between them, but calling it a relationship scares her to death and they sure as hell are more than friends.

 

She presses an open-mouthed kiss to his palm and she hears him swallow thickly. His eyes glaze over for a second as his Adam's apple bobs up and down. She loves that she can make him feel this way with something as tiny as a kiss to his palm.

 

"And anyway, Cora might be right," he mumbles, trying to focus back on their conversation. 

 

"About what?" She asks and she can still feel his thumb smoothing over her cheek and she hopes he never stops doing that, that he never stops touching her.

 

"I might be remembering some things," he says and she feels her heart stop. "Before," he continues before she can say anything, "I felt a bit out of breath and I remembered Scott left his inhaler in his bedside drawer."

 

"That's great," she says. Truth be told, she's struggling for words a little bit because it's taking her every effort not to get her hopes too far up. "Why did you feel out of breath?"

 

"Um, Scott says it was a panic attack," he mumbles, averting his eyes and lowering his head.

 

"Oh," she struggles for words and can't stop herself from squeezing his hand a little tighter.

 

"For a second I thought I had another memory, but Scott said you were never around me during my panic attacks so it was probably just a vision or something," he continues and she feels her heart speed up to an alarming rate. Seriously, at this rate she's going to go into cardiac arrest by the time she's twenty three.

 

"Why, what did you see?" She asks, trying to stop the hope from showing in her voice. "Stiles," she says, a little louder, shaking the hand she's holding when he doesn't answer. He looks up at her, startled by her sudden enthusiasm. "What did you see?"

 

"Um, I was- um, I couldn't catch my breath, and I didn't know what to do, but then I saw, um, you," he says and he sounds a little embarrassed. "You were in a blue dress, and you had a braid down your back, and you told me that you read somewhere that holding your breath could stop a panic attack."

 

She can't help but gasp and he must think she's overwhelmed for an entirely different reason.

 

"That sounds ridiculous, I know," he says quickly. "I'm sor-"

 

"Stiles that wasn't a vision," she interrupts and there's an overwhelming sense of relief taking hold of her and she can't stop her eyes from watering.

 

"Wh- It wasn't?" He asks and his tone suggests he's just as cautious as she is about getting his hopes up.

 

"It was a memory," she says and her voice breaks a little. She cracks a tiny hopeful smile and he mirrors it not a second later. "You, um, you had a panic attack when you found out Mr. Argent got taken. Scott wasn't there which is why he doesn't know about it. It was just you and me and I had to take you to the-"

 

"Locker room," he finishes for her and she can't stop her smile from widening. A tear threatens to fall but Stiles is there to catch it. 

 

"Yes. And I had to get you to hold your breath but you weren't listening to me," she continues and she can't help the secret smile on her face.

 

"So how did you finally get me to listen?" He asks, and she can feel him straining to remember. She should be sad that he doesn't remember their first kiss, but she's far too happy that he remembers something to care. 

 

"I, um, I kissed you," she admits and she has half a mind to feel embarrassed, but they were making out not two hours ago so it's a little late for false modesty. 

 

"Figures," he mumbles to himself, chuckling quietly.

 

"What?" She asks and she can't help her worried tone.

 

"Only an idiot like me would manage to forget the most important part of a memory," he mumbles and she laughs. 

 

"Yeah well, as it turns out, I have a thing for idiots," she can't stop herself from saying. The look on his face, somewhere between awe and wonder and disbelief does things to her insides, and she wants to reach out and kiss him because he shouldn't be so surprised that someone cares about him. That she cares about him.

 

He's still grinning like an idiot when he pulls one of her hands to press a kiss to her knuckles before dropping both their hands between them. 

 

"Did it work, then?" He asks.

 

"What?"

 

"Did you pull me out of my panic attack?"

 

"You're alive, aren't you?" 

 

"That I am," he says and the look he gives her makes her even more deliriously happy, so much so that she momentarily forgets all about alphas and fangs and dead friends.

 

"It was actually our first kiss," she admits shyly.

 

"I'm sorry I don't remember our first kiss," he says and she feels her stomach knot.

 

"You remember it now," she says, trying to make him feel better."Don't you?"

 

"Only because you told me," he says sadly. She feels her heart break a little but then there's a glint in his eyes and a cheeky smile on his face. "You know, maybe a little demonstration might help jolt my memory into life," he teases, running his thumb along her lower lip and she can't stop herself from shivering.

 

"You think you're so charming, don't you?" She asks, rolling her eyes but she doesn't seem to have as much control over her body so she leans towards him a little.

 

"I try."

 

He leans a little closer.

 

"It's not working that well," she says, trying so hard to stand strong but inching even closer to him.  

 

"Uh-huh, yes, I can see that."

 

He's mumbling and his lids are getting heavy and she can feel his breath on her face. All thoughts of standing her ground evaporate when he licks his lips and runs his thumb over her mouth again, and she can't stop herself from turning her head to capture his lips. 

 

It's hungrier than before and there's a hint of desperation there, but there's also so much tenderness in the way he kisses her and so much want and need that it feels like it could overwhelm her if she lets it. She returns every gentle suckle with one of her own, and every bruising bite with another, and every hungry kiss with a new one. His left hand tangles in her hair, the other one clutching at her waist and she can't stop her own from wandering to the hem of his shirt. She hooks one of her fingers through his belt loop pulling herself closer to him and she feels him moan a little in her mouth. She's almost sitting on him now, her leg resting on his own, and his tongue traces her lower lip before making its way into her mouth. Her shirt rises a little and she feels two cold fingers on her skin and she can't stop herself from whimpering into his mouth. 

 

"So beautiful..." He mumbles into her mouth before trailing his lips to leave hot kisses down her jaw and neck. 

 

She feels her heart squeeze and a tingling sensation in her stomach. She pulls herself even closer to him and he moves his mouth back to hers before biting her lower lip.

 

"Jesus, is this how it's gonna be now every time we leave you two together for more than thirty seconds?" She hears someone complain.

 

She doesn't even remember where she is, but then Isaac's voice registers in her mind and she pulls away from Stiles, startled to see him standing behind the open door. She's so caught up in the moment, she doesn't even think to get off Stiles. He groans before resting his head against her shoulder. 

 

"Maybe if you left us alone for more than thirty seconds, you wouldn't have to walk in on this," he shoots back, his voice muffled by her shoulder, and she feels it echo in her own body. It does nothing to soothe the ache she feels. 

 

"You're needed inside," Isaac deadpans before walking back into the house, leaving the door open for them.

 

Lydia kisses the shell of Stiles' ear before he pulls away to look at her.

 

"Rain check?" He asks and the hope in his voice tugs at her heart.

 

She presses a chaste kiss to his lips before getting off him and off the swing altogether. "Definitely," she says, straightening her clothes.

 

She reaches one of her hands towards him and he takes it without question. He pulls himself up to stand next to her before reaching out to tuck another stubborn lock of hair behind her ear. 

 

She can't stop herself from getting on her tiptoes to press another kiss to his lips. He returns it without question, but when she bites his lower lip, she feels him struggling to pull away.

 

"Lyds," he mumbles hastily pulling his lips away from hers before pressing another kiss to the corner of her mouth. "Seriously, we need to stop," he continues, pulling away and then pressing another hungry kiss before finally taking a step back but never letting go of her hand. "I'm having a hard time as it is," he states, looking down uncomfortably.

 

She can't stop herself from smiling at him. It's stupid to feel so happy that she has an effect on him, especially when she knows that Stiles has always been about her. 

 

"Think of your great aunt Mildred," she hears Scott's voice and she looks up to find him standing in the doorway.

 

She's too happy to feel embarrassed to have been caught by both Isaac and Scott in less than two minutes.

 

"Ugh," Stiles says making a face and she can't stop from laughing.

 

"Come on," she says, pulling Stiles by the hand and following Scott inside.

* * *

Thinking about great aunt Mildred actually does the trick, and Stiles decides he loves his best friend so much for knowing that. 

 

Lydia and Stiles try to act like they weren't just caught making out, but seeing as half the population of the room is made up of werewolves who probably heard them, Stiles' hopes aren't that high. It doesn't help that Lydia's bun is even messier and her face is flushed and her lips look red and swollen and like they could do with a little kissing and... He shakes his head trying to focus on the situation at hand. He'll think about Lydia's lips later.

 

They don't stay for much longer at Scott's house. Scott informs them about some new security measures they have to stick with until they know what they're really dealing with. Stiles has a really hard time associating Scott the Alpha with Scott his mumbling friend, but he finds that he's surprisingly good at being both. 

 

The measures they come up with are mostly pretty easy to abide with. Stuff like always keeping your phone on and not going anywhere without letting the others know. 

 

The most unusual one has to do with the sleeping arrangements. Chris and Scott explain that it is safer for them to stay in groups, which means that until further notice, Melissa, Scott and Isaac will be staying with Stiles and the Sheriff, while Cora and Derek stay at the Argents. And Derek and Isaac are to stay with the Sheriff and Melissa during their shifts.

 

"What about Lydia?" Stiles asks when no one brings her up.

 

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought it was a given," his dad says, seemingly just realizing that no one mentioned where she'd be staying. "She's got a room at our house," he continues and Stiles has the sudden urge to engulf his dad in a fierce hug. He resists that urge, but he can't stop himself from smiling.

 

"This is just an extra precaution," Chris explains. "It'll get easier when school starts in a week. At least then you'll be grouped together for most of the day so you'll know to take care of each other." 

 

Stiles feels a little offended at the insinuation that they might not know that they should look out for one another, because looking around at his friends, his pack, it seems so clear to him. He would take a bullet any day for anyone in this room. 

 

Chris, Derek, and his dad all leave together when their lunch-turned-pack-meeting is done. Melissa leaves not long after with Isaac in tow. 

 

Lydia and Stiles find themselves once again alone when Scott goes up to him room with Allison to pack a bag and Cora disappears outside to make a call. 

 

"How are you feeling?" Stiles says, coming up to her as she stands by the living room window. She turns in time to stand almost nose to nose with him. Well, more like chin to nose.

 

"I'm better." 

 

She looks up at him and there's a hint of a smile on her lips and Stiles feels his heart ache at how beautiful she is. He reaches a hand to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. He finds that this is the most believable excuse he has to keep touching her somehow. Her hair keeps falling on her face and someone needs to help her keep it back.

 

"You?" She asks, reaching for his free hand and linking their fingers together.

 

"You and Scott are gonna be staying over at my place for at least a week," he says, running his finger along her cheek before moving his hand back to her hair. "I've been better," he shrugs.

 

"Jerk," she mumbles before playfully punching him in the gut, a look of indignation gracing her features.

Stiles can't help but chuckle.

 

"Sorry to interrupt," Cora says, coming in to join them and Stiles drops his hand from Lydia's face.

 

"You're not," Lydia states, glaring at Stiles and his smile widens. "Was that Isaac on the phone?" She asks, her tone light and teasing, turning to look at Cora but not letting go of Stiles' hand.

 

"No," Cora mutters and Stiles can see her blush a little. "And before you guys get too excited, nothing's going on there, and nothing will be going on there," she continues, her voice a little louder, but there's a bite to it and Stiles can hear the underlying sadness she's trying to hide behind her facade.

 

"But I thought..." Lydia mumbles.

 

"Please tell me he actually got my hint," Stiles says and he can't help the worry that creeps onto his face. He cares about Cora and he wants her to be happy, and right now she seems anything but.

 

"He got it loud and clear," Cora mutters darkly. "It's still not gonna happen."

 

"Why not?" Lydia asks and though Stiles knows they might be pushing too far, he's curious too.

 

"There's too much going against us," Cora says. "Derek and..." She continues and Stiles can actually see her strain to find another excuse. But there isn't another excuse. They're just worried about how Derek would react. "Look, I don't want to talk about it," she says and there's a finality in her tone that wasn't there before. "Let's just leave it at thank you for trying, but it's not going to happen."

 

Cora blinks a few times and Stiles knows she's trying to fight back the tears. He gets the impression that Cora's not one of the people who cry a lot. At least not in front of people.

 

"Alright," Lydia says and there's an understanding in her voice that makes Stiles like her even more. "What are we doing now?" She asks effectively changing the subject and Stiles sees Cora shoot her a small grateful smile.

 

"I have to pack some clothes," Cora says.

 

"Right," Lydia agrees. "Me too. Maybe we could go do that with Allison, and we'll meet over at your house later or something?" She asks, turning to look at Stiles.

 

He doesn't want to leave her side but he knows he has to at some point. Besides, she's gonna be staying over at his place, so it's not like he's not gonna see her later. 

 

"Yeah, I actually found some old research papers in my room a few days ago," he says. "Stuff about werewolves and mythological creatures that I probably looked up before my accident, so I was thinking about going through them, seeing if there's anything that could be helpful. Scott can help me with that."

 

"That I can do," they hear Scott's voice and they turn to see him coming down the stairs, a duffel bag in hand and Allison at his tail.

 

"Okay, so it's settled then."

  

Cora's the first one to move towards the front door and everyone else follows her, Lydia and Stiles not letting go of each other.

 

Stiles walks Lydia up to Allison's car, but when it's time to actually let her go, he finds that's there's a sad emptiness that's filling him slowly. Which is completely ridiculous because people don't feel things so strongly, so that ache in his chest, probably a result of too much garlic at lunch. At least this is what he tries to convince himself. He feels marginally better when he notices she's just as reluctant to let him go.

 

"I'll see you in a bit," he whispers, squeezing her fingers lightly.

 

He wants to kiss her but their friends are around and that might make her uncomfortable. She makes the decision for him when she pulls herself up on her tiptoes and plants a chaste kiss on his lips. He's got a dumb smile on his face and he knows he's so whipped they might as well call him cream, but he really couldn't care less.

 

Lydia smiles at him and he feels himself doing the same. She lets go of his hand before getting in the passenger seat. He closes the door behind her and moves a step back.

 

She's still looking at him with a secret smile on her face, and his grin widens because this beautiful, smart, fierce girl actually wants to be with him. 

 

"I'll miss you," he sees her mouth to him and he feels his heart beat ten times faster. 

 

He smiles wider. "Me too," he says out loud startling even himself and Lydia chuckles. "Watch out for anything weird happening," he calls out loud enough for all three girls in the car to hear him. 

 

Lydia is still looking at him and he can't tear his gaze away from her but he also notices Allison shooting him a smile from the driver's seat before pulling out of the driveway. He holds Lydia's gaze until she can no longer look at him.

 

"You are so whipped," he hears Scott say with a laugh as they move towards his Jeep.

 

"Says the guy who's got I heart Allison doodled all over his chemistry notebook," Stiles shoots back without missing a beat.

 

"I didn't show you this recently," Scott says quizzically, raising an eyebrow and getting in the car. "How did you..." He stops talking, realization suddenly dawning on him. "Jesus, Stiles, of all the things you could've remembered," he mutters and Stiles smiles getting in the Jeep and closing the door behind him.

 

"Yeah well, apparently selective memory still knows which information to use as leverage," he says, shooting Scott a casual look and turning on the ignition.

 

"Shut up," his best friend mutters before turning to look out the window and Stiles can see the tips of his ears turn pink.

* * *

Stiles and Scott are up in Stiles' room when Lydia finally gets back. She walks into the room to find them knee deep in research, Stiles sprawled on his back in the most awkward of positions, his feet resting on his pillow and his head dangling just slightly over the edge of the bed. He's holding a stack of papers over his head that he seems to be reading. Scott's half sitting half laying beside him, his back on the headboard and his feet right by Stiles' waist.

 

Lydia can't help but stand in the doorway for a second and look fondly at the two friends. Despite the blatant jerk she was to them for half their lives, they've taken her in and accepted her for everything she is, even with her many, many, many flaws, and she loves them so much for this. 

 

She doesn't know how she would've been able to pull through after Stiles' accident without Scott. As cliché as it might sound, he really became her rock. She's ashamed to admit she nearly gave up on Stiles about twenty times, but each time Scott was there, helping her through it, his eternal optimism and overwhelming love for his best friend pulling Lydia out of the never-ending darkness. 

 

She thinks it's because despite everything, Scott knows Stiles a lot more than she does. And while she was thinking about how hurt she was feeling that Stiles didn't remember her, Scott was waiting patiently for his friend to be ready, and he knew he would be ready one day. 

 

No one notices her at first, and she's left standing there in the doorway for at least a few minutes lost in her thoughts. But then Stiles' head dips a little lower and he's looking at her upside down with a dopey grin on his face.

 

"Hey," he says, looking away from her and straightening up before getting up to go towards her.

 

Lydia feels her heart skip a beat and she smiles back at him. She wonders if she will ever stop feeling this way whenever he looks at her.

 

"How long have you been standing here?" Scott asks, jolting them both out of their bubble.

 

Stiles stops halfway through and stands awkwardly in his room and Lydia can't help but flush. 

 

"I just got here," she's quick to say and she feels like a deer caught in the headlights.

 

"Did you pack a bag?" Stiles asks.

 

"Yeah, it's downs-"

 

"Great, I'll help you get it up to your room," Stiles interrupts before she can finish talking, crossing the room in two steps and pulling her outside by her hand. 

 

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" They hear Scott yell back at them and Lydia can't help but chuckle while Stiles groans as he keeps pulling her down the stairs. 

 

He lets go of her hand only to carry her bag and before she can say anything, he's already trudging up the stairs, bag in hand. He stops in the middle of the staircase only to make sure she's following, and when he's satisfied that she is, he continues his way up the stairs and into the spare bedroom where she knows she'll be staying.

 

He's already dropped the bag by the bed and turned towards the door by the time she makes it into the room. They stand there for a second looking at each other, Lydia trying really hard to suppress her smile.

 

"That was... Interesting," she says, trying to find the right word.

 

"Sorry." Stiles ducks his head and scratches the back of his neck nervously before looking back at her. "I don't even know why I did that. I just kinda wanted to be alone with you for a second, but I didn't really want to say anything in front of Scott."

 

"So you pull me out of the room like it's just been set on fire," she says, raising an eyebrow. "Smooth," she continues, nodding exaggeratedly while taking a few steps towards Stiles. 

 

"Shut up," he mutters, ducking his head again.

 

"No, I'm serious, that was a really good tactic." She can't help but laugh a little as she continues making her way to him. 

 

"Stop enjoying this so much."

 

She's standing right in front of him now and she's cant stop herself from reaching for his hand. He's very quick to comply and they start playing around with each other's fingers.

 

"You said you wanted to be alone with me," she murmurs and she doesn't know why, but this moment feels so much more intimate than any other time they've been together. "Why?"

 

"I just missed you," he whispers, reaching for her waist and pulling her a little closer.

 

"Yeah?" She brings her other hand to the front of his shirt.

 

She pulls at the fabric and Stiles dips his head lower and before she knows it they're kissing. It's different this time. There's need and want and so much tenderness and something else she can't quite place her finger on.

 

The way they're holding on to each other, it's almost like they're afraid the other might disappear if they let go.

 

They're breathing hard when they pull apart, and it feels good to not be interrupted for once. 

 

She feels something tug at her heart when Stiles puts his forehead to hers and she doesn't open her eyes, savoring every breath that blows softly in her face, every tug of his fingers on her waist, and every heartbeat she feels beneath the hand on his heart. 

 

"I missed you, too," she murmurs before letting go of him and looping her arms around his neck. She pushes herself to him and he squeezes her back just as tight, burying his head in her neck. She hasn't been hugged like that in a really long time, and she feels an inexplicable ache in her, a worry creeping into her heart. She needs Stiles, more than she's needed anyone in her entire life, and judging by the way he's clutching to her, the feeling's at least slightly mutual.

 

There's something else tugging at her heart, a much more pleasant feeling that also scares the crap out of her, because she knows she hasn't felt that way about anyone before. It's easier to pretend not to know what that feeling is, to pretend she doesn't know what it's called. She's let down her guard so much around Stiles, she knows he could hurt her more than anyone else. But she also knows he would never hurt her. Not on purpose, at least. 

 

He's peeled off the armor she's built around herself layer by layer, and for once, she doesn't even want to try to build it again.

 

He pulls away and she feels instantly cold and she knows he can see it on her face, her unwillingness to let go of him.

 

"Stiles," she starts before she can stop herself. "What are we?" She asks and he reaches for her hand again. 

 

It feels so natural now to link her fingers with his. She knows almost all the calluses on his fingers, and the hardened edges of his digits from where he bites his fingernails, and she savors the way his thumb almost always automatically starts drawing shapes into her palm. 

 

"I don't mean to be pushy or anything, but sometimes I think it's all in my head," she mumbles. "That I might wake up and you might not be interested anymore," she continues and there's a sadness there. 

 

"I'm never gonna not be interested," he promises, looking at her and holding her gaze. "And if defining this thing convinces you of that, then lets define it."

 

"It's not about defining this," she says and she can't help but smile. "I just... What are you to me? What am I to you? Like, I don't want to call you my boyfriend because it seems like such a silly label for such an important person."

 

"I'm important then," he echoes, raising his eyebrows and Lydia chuckles lightly.

 

"Very." 

 

He smiles at her before reaching to put a hand to her cheek.

 

"Yeah, well, you're not my friend either. I mean, you are, in a sense that I like you and trust you, but I also don't usually pull my friends out of rooms like they've been set on fire just to be alone with them." 

 

He's mumbling to himself now and Lydia can't stop from laughing again.

 

"So, what then?"

 

"So... You're my tether," he says in a more serious tone and it's so natural and simple, she wonders why she didn't think of it. "You're mine," he continues and Lydia feels another layer peel off around her heart. 

 

"I'm yours," she echoes, pressing a kiss to his palm. "That makes you mine, then."

 

"Well, if we're being honest here, I don't like being treated like private property," he says in a very serious tone and Lydia can't stop herself from laughing.

 

"Shut up."

 

"I'm yours," he confirms and he looks at her again. "So does that mean we can do PDA now?"

 

"I'm not very big on PDA, if we're being completely honest here."

 

"Not very big on PDA?" He asks, almost appalled. "But but but..."

 

"I can be easily persuaded to think otherwise though," she interrupts, shooting him a smile.

 

"Oh really," he says, smiling back before leaning in to press another kiss to her lips. 

 

"Really," she mumbles when he pulls away a little before she pulls him back in for seconds and thirds. 

 

They pull apart at the same time, both feeling completely content, before they turn to walk back to Stiles' room, their hands clasped together, with no intention of ever letting go.

* * *

Turns out, the spare room thing is really just a formality. 

 

Lydia and Stiles go back to Stiles' room to help Scott with research, and it's the most comfortable Stiles has ever felt. He loves his pack, all of them without question, but sitting here on his bed, with Lydia by his side absently nibbling on a pen while looking intently at a stack of papers in her lap, occasionally letting her head fall on Stiles' shoulder, and Scott laying horizontally by their feet, he feels like he can do anything. This is his family. These are the people he wants to be around for the next twenty years. It's a scary thought and it's slightly premature, but that doesn't make it any less true.

 

They sort all of the papers they find chronologically, going through the stuff they discovered the earliest first. They've already read everything on werewolves, alphas, betas, omegas, werewolf hunters, the Argents, and have just started with the Kanima pile when the sheriff gets home. He finds them on Stiles' bed with thirty thousand papers around them and Stiles looks up from his own stack of papers in time to find the sheriff observing them with a smile on his face.

 

They put down their papers to help him out with dinner. Melissa's there not much later, with the rest of the pack in tow. 

 

Dinner is a pack affair, Stiles has come to learn, and they try to all make it together every night. And Stiles can't really complain. Listening to Isaac and Derek banter has really become one of his favorite background noises. Except that tonight they're not bickering. They're actually seated as far away from each other as possible, and haven't looked at each other once. Stiles knows it's something to do with Cora, especially when the girl in question excuses herself right after dinner to get some fresh air. 

 

Stiles looks at Lydia next to him for a second, and he sees the worry etched on her face too. He knows she knows what he's asking. 

 

"Go," she whispers to him, reaching out to squeeze his hand.

 

Stiles sends a grateful smile her way before getting up to follow Cora out the door. 

 

He finds her leaning against the porch rail, looking out on the dark street, a blank look on her face. Stiles moves to stand next to her. She doesn't react and for a second he's not sure she noticed him. 

 

"I'm such an idiot," she whispers after a while keeping her eyes focused on the pavement.

 

"What happened?" Stiles asks, keeping his eyes trained on her.

 

"I kissed him." She stops for a second to take a deep breath and Stiles knows she's trying to keep her voice steady. "He didn't push me away, but then he did, and I got pissed and we started yelling at each other." 

 

Stiles is tempted to ask what about, but he's slowly learning that Cora does things at her own pacing. 

 

"It was bullshit, really. I got angry at him because I thought he was weak and scared, and he kept telling me he was no good for me. I don't even know why he has it in his head that he's no good for me or that I'm better than him or something. It's just stupid. He's such a good person, but he's been told his entire life that he's not worth anything that he actually believes it now. I hate his dad. I hate his dad so much for what he's done to him."

 

Stiles actually hates Isaac's dad too. Scott told him about Isaac's past a few days ago, and Stiles couldn't understand how a parent could treat their child that way. But then he looks at Lydia's parents, her mom living her life like she doesn't have a daughter, and her dad nearly non-existent in her life, and he thinks he's lucky. His own father would die before he hurt him, but not all parents give their kids such unconditional love and support. 

 

"Anyway," Cora continues snapping him out of his thoughts. "He kissed me again after a few minutes of arguing, and that's when Derek walked in. I was pissed and trying to push him away at the time and Derek thought that he was trying to force himself on me or something. He sent him flying across the room. I tried to explain to Derek that it's not like that, but he doesn't want to listen. He acknowledged that he knows that Isaac would never do anything like that, but that he doesn't want me seeing him. Seriously, does he think that I'm five? He can't tell me what to do with my life!"

 

Stiles doesn't say anything. He doesn't need to. Cora just needs to vent, to get it all off her chest before the anger consumes her, and this is exactly what he's helping her do. 

 

"I hate this so much," she whispers in a broken voice and Stiles can't stop himself from scooting closer to her and putting an arm around her. 

 

She seems so young and vulnerable, so far from the tough, unbreakable beta Stiles has come to know her as.

 

"It's okay," he mumbles, rubbing her shoulder. "Derek will come around." 

 

"But what if he doesn't?" She asks, lowering her head and hiding behind her hands and Stiles knows that she's crying. "What if Isaac doesn't either?"

 

Stiles doesn't know how to answer, and Cora doesn't seem to be looking for one, so they don't talk after that. Instead, Cora continues crying into her hands and Stiles tries to comfort her. She doesn't need someone telling her she'll be okay, because she's Cora, of course she'll be okay, she just needs someone to let her know she's not alone. And Stiles does just that. 

 

They stay like that for a while, and that's how Isaac and Lydia find them.

Stiles' first instinct when he sees Lydia approaching them is to pull away, but then Lydia's shaking her head at him and she's got so much understanding in her eyes, it's almost like everything that happened the past few days was a dream. Don't let her go.

 

Isaac, on the other hand, looks like he's looking at a live corpse. There's a look of revulsion and sadness and almost disgust etched on his features, and Stiles wonders if the curly-haired boy isn't directing this hatred towards himself for making Cora so sad.

 

They take two steps towards them and Cora pulls her hands away to look at the intruder. She notices Lydia first, and the look she sends her is so heartbreaking, Stiles doesn't even know what to do with himself. Lydia takes another step in their direction, but then Cora's eyes find Isaac's and it's all she can do not to run away. She pulls herself up and away from Stiles's grip almost as if she's just been burned, hastily wiping at her face, as if the tears will magically disappear.

 

"Cora..." Isaac whispers, taking a step her way and reaching out for her, but she takes a step back before his fingers find her wrist and she side-steps him to go back inside. 

 

Isaac's left standing there like an idiot, and for the second time today, Stiles feels sorry for him. 

 

\-------------------------------------

 

Isaac follows Cora in a few minutes later, leaving Lydia and Stiles by themselves. 

 

"I wish we could help them," she mutters, looking at the floor. "I don't like seeing them like this."

 

"I know," Stiles agrees. "I don't even know why that is, but it almost feels like there's something hurting inside," he continues, catching her attention. Their eyes meet for a second and then he's rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. "That sounds so stupid, I know."

 

"No, not at all," Lydia is quick to say, moving towards him. "It's a pack thing," she continues. "We're more tuned to one another's moods. Which means that if one of us is happy, we all feel good. If they're scared, we all feel a sense of foreboding. And if they're hurting..."

 

"We're all hurting," Stiles finishes for her.

 

She doesn't say anything, just walks closer to him and he doesn't need an invitation to put his arms around her. He presses a kiss to her forehead before dropping one of his arms, but keeping the other firmly around her shoulders. It's so familiar and right, Lydia almost feels herself disappear into him.

 

"Let's go back inside," he murmurs, guiding her towards the door. 

 

Allison, Cora, Derek and Chris are already preparing to leave when they come back inside. Cora and Derek are the first out the door, neither saying a word to Isaac on their way out. Lydia feels herself almost choke when she takes him in. He looks so unbelievably sad, it's hard to associate him with the sarcastic goofball he usually is.

 

He turns to walk up the stairs once everyone's left without a word. 

 

"So," the sheriff says after a few seconds, Melissa coming to stand next to him. "Sleeping arrangements," he starts, and Lydia turns along with Stiles and Scott to look a them. There's an air of awkwardness to the way they're all looking each other, but it also makes Lydia want to laugh a little. "Lydia, let's not even pretend you're gonna use the spare room to actually sleep there," he says, eyes trained on Lydia and she feels herself heat up as both Stiles and Scott turn to look at her. "You've sneaked out to Stiles' room every single time you've spent the night here, and that was when you didn't even like my son." Did she say heat up? She meant burn up with the heat of a thousand suns.

 

"Oh my god, dad!" Stiles jumps to her rescue, but it's too late, she's already more embarrassed then she's ever been. She's cant even find her voice. And Lydia is NEVER speechless.

 

"What?" The sheriff asks, and Melissa tries - and fails - to disguise her chuckle as a cough. Scott's not even bothering to hide his own shit-eating grin. "All I'm saying is, just cause I pretend I don't know, doesn't mean I don't know." He stops for a second to look at both of them, and Lydia can see Stiles' cheeks flush. "This is good news, really, because I'm saying it's okay for you to sleep in the same room as the boys. Just behave, cause we're gonna be checking on you guys periodically."

 

"Jesus, dad, we've got two werewolves in the room with us, what are we gonna do? Besides, if we were to do anything, they could hear you coming a mile away and warn us."

 

"Stop being a smartass or I'll lock Lydia up in the spare room," Sheriff Stilinski threatens and Lydia can't stop herself from laughing. 

 

Stiles seems surprised but pleased at her reaction, turning to shoot her a smile, and she feels the butterflies in her stomach come to life.

 

"Okay," Melissa interrupts, openly laughing now. "Another thing you should know, we are sleeping in the same room," she announces, hand flailing between her and Stiles' dad a few times.

 

"Christ," Lydia hears Stiles mutter under his breath and Scott groans. She, on the other hand, has the biggest grin on her face. 

 

"Okay, well, just remember that we can hear you coming a mile away," Scott says suddenly.

 

"Interesting choice of words," Lydia can't stop herself from saying just as Scott winces realizing what he just insinuated. 

 

"I did not sign up for this," Stiles continues to mutter under his breath and Lydia can't stop from laughing.

 

It's Melissa's turn to flush and even the Sheriff lets out an uncomfortable chuckle. 

 

"Okay, well this has been interesting," Stiles starts, moving a few steps back and taking Lydia's hand in his, pulling her along. Scott is already moving in tandem with him. "I'm gonna go, and try to bang my head against the wall until I can get the image of you two, um, yeah, doing that thing, out of my brain," he continues, a disgusted look gracing his features.

 

They're already out of the living room and halfway up the stairs, Scott two steps ahead of them, by the time Stiles finishes his sentence, and Lydia has stopped even trying to keep calm. She's grinning like an idiot, occasionally hiccuping a laugh or two, because this has been the most awkward and lovely conversation she's ever had with anyone. Because this is the kind of conversation a family has. And Lydia's never had a real family. Not like this. Not until now.

 

She lets go of Stiles only to go into the other room and change. She quickly strips off her clothes, throwing on a pair of striped cotton pajama bottoms, one of Stiles' shirts and his red hoodie. She comes back into Stiles' room to find the boys already sprawled out on the floor in a sea of cushions and blankets, research papers littering the area around them. Beds are overrated anyway. Stiles is leaning against the side of the bed already engrossed in a paper while Scott and Isaac look something up on his laptop. None of them notice her come in until she has to step over both Scott and Isaac to reach the gap between Scott and Stiles, a space obviously meant for her.

 

Stiles looks up from his paper just as she's kneeling between them to get under the covers, and his face lights up with a smile that makes Lydia's heart beat faster. She grins back just as wide as soon as she's settled next to him, back resting against his bed. He squeezes her hand and she feels her heart soar. Scott's shoulder is touching hers, and somehow spending the night sandwiched between three boys doing research is not how she envisioned her life would be. But she wouldn't have it any other way.

 

"So, will it be Kanimas or alpha packs?" Stiles asks, pulling out two stacks of prints, weighing each in one hand.

 

"I've had enough of Kanimas to last me six lifetimes," she says, rolling her eyes.

 

"Alpha packs it is," Stiles states, handing her one of the two stacks. 

 

She takes it with a smile, putting it aside for a while to take off her hoodie. It's getting a bit hot, and it's not like she needs it with Stiles in all his mighty glory around. She throws it behind her on the bed, and Stiles gives her that look again. The one that says she's the most important thing in the world. The one that makes her the happiest person. The one that scares the shit out of her. She snuggles further into him and he presses a kiss to her temple. She picks up her stack of papers to start reading, reaching out with her free hand to link her fingers with his. Their hands end up in his lap, and she can feel his thumb lazily drawing shapes into her palm. She's gonna have a hard time concentrating on the task at hand, but she's not sure it gets better than this and she doesn't ever want to let go. She leans her head on his shoulder and he presses one last kiss to her temple before picking up his own papers to continue.

 

That's how his dad finds them three hours later, and Lydia has the urge to laugh because werewolf senses or not, they all hear him coming their way. The man has the stealth of a six-year-old and it's never been clearer that Stiles is his son.

 

She looks up to find the Sheriff looking at them. There's a small smile playing on his lips like he knows a secret. He wishes them a good night before disappearing into his room. 

 

Lydia doesn't last much longer after that. Her lids are drooping, research papers haphazardly thrown on her chest when she feels Stiles move next to her. He lets go of her hand only to put his arm around her. He pulls her closer to him, pushing the papers off her and he scoots them further down into the blankets until they're no longer leaning on the bed, but fully lying on the floor. She moves her head to his chest and she hears his heart beat. 

 

She falls asleep two minutes later with a smile on her face.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand new chapter! :) Sorry this is later than the usual, but real life has been catching up with me, so I've had very little time to write! And a fair warning, my exams are coming up next week, so I will have even less time to write this week, but I promise to do my best to post the next chapter no later than usual. I've already got the rest of the story mapped out and the chapters planned, so it's just a matter of writing them. Anyway, enough bullshit, I hope you guys like this one (it sets up the rest of the story pretty nicely).

When Lydia wakes up the next morning, the first thing she sees is the back of someone's head. She recognizes Scott's messy hair, and she blinks a few times, trying to recall the night before. She feels a small pressure on her waist and hand, and gusts of air fanning across the back of her neck. 

 

Stiles. 

 

She smiles to herself, realizing exactly where she is. Somehow, they must've turned in the middle of the night, and now her back is to Stiles, his arm looping around her waist and holding her hand in his. Her back is pressed so tightly into his chest, she can feel the taut muscle under his shirt, subtle yet very much defined from years of playing lacrosse. 

 

She smiles, snuggling even closer into him, and he unconsciously tightens his arm around her before he buries his face into her hair.

 

The room's a little bit stuffy and she can feel his hard-on pressing into her back, but she wouldn't trade this for the world. It's actually - unsurprisingly - quite the turn on, and if they weren't sharing a room with two mythical creatures with supernatural hearing, she would do something about it. Still, she can't help but turn in his arms so that she's facing him. His arm loosens around her, and she can see him open his eyes, lids heavy with sleep, to check that she's okay. Their eyes meet and she feels something wash over her. A realization of sorts, a feeling she knows to be true because she can feel it in every fiber of her being. 

 

This is the boy she loves.

 

And it feels good and exciting and so, so scary, but it's not like she didn't know it before.

 

She'd thought she could maybe feel it that day he finally told her just how much she mattered to him. That he'd go crazy without her.

 

She'd felt it tug at her heartstrings again when he used his own body to shield her from six hundred crazed crows.

 

She'd actually felt it when he almost died in front of her to save Scott. That day, her own life flashed before her eyes, a future without Stiles, and she'd realized she would be devastated too if anything were to happen to him, so it was very easy to risk her own life to make sure he wouldn't be taken away from her.

 

She'd known it the day she kissed him. Yeah, he was having a panic attack, but mostly he broke her heart, this strong boy who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, who hid his worries behind laughter and his insecurities behind sarcasm. He'd finally cracked when he thought he would lose his father, and Lydia wanted nothing more than to be there for him. And then he broke down in front of her, and all she could do was kiss him. Not only to stop his breath like she'd claimed - let's face it, holding her hand to his mouth would've been just as effective - but also because she wanted him to know that she was there for him. That she would help him no matter what. 

 

And today is the day she's fully accepted it. She loves Stiles. 

 

She thinks about telling him for a wild second, but this is a boy who lost his memory, a boy who woke up from a long sleep to a bunch of strangers claiming to be his family and friends, so all of those moments that mattered to her, those moments that shaped and cemented her feelings for him, they mean nothing to him. Telling him right now would only serve to freak him out. 

 

She settles on smiling at him instead, and he returns the favor. Telling him might not be the best thing right now, but that doesn't stop her from clinging to him like he's her lifeline. And somewhere in the back of her mind, she's aware that he is just that. Her lifeline.

 

They look at each other for a few more seconds before he pulls her closer to him, tightening his hold on her. She grips his shirt in her fists and buries herself deeper into him.

 

This is how she wakes up two hours later and almost every morning the following week. 

 

* * *

 

The week before the first day of school comes with little to no surprises. The pack sticks to its regimen, making sure werewolves are always around humans to protect them, gathering around every night at the Stilinski residence to recap the events of the day. Stiles likes this part the most. He doesn't know if these dinners were part of the pack routine before, but he hopes they still stick to them even after they're declared safe. 

 

The only downside to these dinners is Derek and Isaac avoiding each other like the plague. Derek broods whenever Isaac is around, and Cora looks a little more broken every day, and it breaks Stiles' heart to see his friends suffer like that.

 

Aside from the palpable tension between the three, the week goes by without a hitch. Lydia, Stiles, Scott, Allison and Cora spend their days holed up in Stiles' room pouring over pages of research. Allison brings along the bestiary and Stiles is surprised to find banshees are mentioned in it. It kind of pisses him off a little bit, that someone like Lydia could be classified as a monster. But then he and Lydia talk about it one day, and she tells him about how it scared her too at first, that she'd be ranked as a monster. But then one day it hit her that Scott, the alpha, a beast in the truest sense of the word, is actually the kindest, most caring and loyal person she know. He's the one who watches out for them, and he's never intentionally hurt anyone, even when it almost cost him his life. And if the bestiary is foolish enough to label someone like Scott a monster, then Lydia's proud to be one too. 

 

Stiles loves that reasoning so much he spends the next half hour gawking at Lydia and grinning like a crazy person, which makes her quite uncomfortable after a while. She finally gets him to stop by distracting him with things like soft lips and frantic kisses and fingers pulling him closer through belt loops. Allison walks in on them five minutes later when Stiles' fingers have just brushed the curve of her Lydia's breast, and their impromptu make out session is no more.

 

The Sunday before the first day of school, Sheriff Stilinski comes home with confirmation of Peter's involvement in Aiden's death. The cameras in Danny's neighborhood capture both Deucalion and Peter lurking around the house only a few minutes from each other, and the pack spend the entire dinner trying to figure out their next move.

 

Stiles has trouble sleeping that night. He tries to tell himself that it's due to the fact that he's worried because Peter and Deucalion seem to be working together, but the truth is a lot simpler and more human than that. It's almost ridiculous to him that in a world where monsters come out to play at night, something so trivial can work him up so much.

 

He's worried about his first day of school. About all those people who might come up to him in the hallway to say hi, only he won't know if they're really his friends or not. All those teachers who will call him by his name, only he won't know what to call them back. All those students who will look at him with pitying looks and anxious eyes, waiting for the kid with bad memory to snap. 

 

As if sensing his distress, he feels Lydia shift next to him, her hand squeezing his fingers before she turns to face him, eyes fluttering open. Her lids are heavy with sleep, but she opens her eyes wide enough to take him in, to notice the worry lining his forehead, the weariness in his eyes, and the slight downward curve of his lips. She straightens up immediately, supporting herself with one arm on her side, moving the other to rest on his heart.

 

"Stiles?" She whispers frantically. "What's wrong?"

 

"Nothing, I'm fine," he's quick to reply, taking the hand resting on his chest in his.

 

"No, you're not," she replies. "Why are you awake at this hour?" She continues hurriedly and there's an edge to her voice, a panic seeping in that chills him to his bones, and Stiles hates the fact that it's caused by him.

 

"Nothing," he says again, straightening up to cup her cheek with his free hand. "I'm fine, Lyds, I swear," he reassures her and he feels her relax slightly under his fingers, but there's still a sharpness to her stance, an edge to her movements. "I'm just worried about tomorrow is all," he admits, partly to get it off his chest, but mostly to calm her down because he can't be responsible for putting Lydia in such a state. 

 

"It's gonna be okay," she says, straightening up fully, making sure to whisper so she won't wake the others up. "Stiles," she tries again when he looks away for a second, and her voice commands such attention that Stiles can't stop himself from immediately turning back to look at her. "It's gonna be okay." 

 

She moves her free hand to trace shapes on his forearm, rubbing in a soothing motion that makes Stiles want to curl up in a ball and sleep but also pull her over to him so she's in his lap where he can put his hands all over her and make her scream his name into the night. 

 

He thinks about how this feeling right now, it sums up Lydia perfectly. She makes him want to hold her hand in public and open the door for her and kiss her under the stars and get her flowers and talk to her for hours on end about books and mythical creatures and mathematical theorems but also push her up against the wall and kiss her until she's moaning his name and scratching at his back and marking him as hers. 

 

He pushes the thoughts out of his mind, files them in for another time when he can turn them into a reality, and looks at her instead. Her eyes are tired and sleepy, but there's so much tenderness there, so much determination, so much caring, so much of that feeling he's too scared to name because then he'd have to admit he feels it as well, and he shouldn't feel it, not for someone's he doesn't really remember. He can't stop himself from leaning into her anyway and pressing a kiss to her cheek, lingering a lot longer than necessary, and he knows it's not entirely unwelcome, especially not when she wraps her fingers around his wrist, pressing his palm closer to her cheek as if holding him there, burying herself further into his neck. She lets go of his other hand only to curl her fingers in his shirt and pull him closer. He rests his now free hand on her waist, his palm grazing the top of her thigh, and he's too comfortable, too content, too _happy_ to do anything but stay this way.

 

They don't move for a few minutes, but then like some silent agreement, they move to lie back down still tangled up in each other. They end up facing each other on their sides, one of his hands holding hers between them, the other wrapped firmly around her waist. Her free hand traces shapes into his hair, and he feels himself relax slowly under her touch. The last thing he feels before giving in to slumber is soft lips on his forehead.

 

This is also the first thing he feels when he wakes up. 

 

"Come on, Stiles, it's time to wake up."

 

He registers Lydia's voice at the same time he feels fingers threading through his hair and a hand rubbing his arm gently. He can't help but lean in further in the direction of her voice, and when he feels soft hair tickling his face, he buries himself deeper into her neck, breathing her in and smiling to himself. She lets out a surprised chuckle that turns into a fond laugh.

 

"Stiles," she whispers. "Scott and Isaac are stirring so they're awake and I'm pretty sure your dad's going to walk in on us any minute now." 

 

Though he's barely awake, he can feel her physically trying not to lean into him too, and he smiles wider before tightening his grip on her waist and pulling her closer. 

 

"Stiles!" She lets out a surprised squeal before laughing again. "Stiles," she tries again, her resolve weakening, and he feels her loop her arm around his back before hiding her face into his neck. Soft lips brush at the sensitive skin and Stiles can't stop his breathe from hitching. He's definitely awake now.

 

He feels a tightening in his pants and he registers the bulge that must now be showing. It's not like it's not a common occurrence, especially in the morning, but usually he has a few moments to calm himself down before anyone notices. The heat in the room coupled with Lydia's lips fluttering on his neck make him think he won't be able to get rid of it very easily this time around. 

 

"Ahem," he hears someone clear his throat just as he's about to pull away, and he looks up in time to find his dad standing in the doorway, leaning against the door frame, his eyebrows raised. Stiles can feel the tips of his ears turn pink as he and Lydia slowly pull away from each other.

 

"You should've listened to her when she told you I'd be up any second," his dad says and Stiles' eyes widen because one thing the sheriff doesn't have is supernatural hearing, so if he heard Lydia say that, then he must've been standing there for a long time. 

 

He looks at Lydia and he can actually see the mortified look on her face when she realizes the same thing. 

 

"I need to use the bathroom," she murmurs, getting up hastily and making her way past the sheriff and out the room without actually looking at either of them. 

 

Stiles' eyes follow her until she's no longer in sight, and he turns to look at his father. He's expecting a lecture, some sort of argument, maybe even a bit of yelling, so he's completely taken off guard when Sheriff Stilinski only shakes his head and sighs. 

 

"Come on, boys, GET UP!" He yells, turning his attention to Scott and Isaac, effectively scaring them both awake. Scott looks around the room like he's a little lost before his eyes land on the sheriff. Isaac is rubbing at his eyes trying to get himself up. "Breakfast's in thirty minutes, so you better get moving," the sheriff announces before turning to go. 

 

Breakfast turns out to be a pretty loud affair. It's not like Stiles hasn't gotten used to the noise that comes with six people sharing a living space, but somehow that seems to magnify tremendously when said six people all have places to be and don't have time to waste. The kitchen looks more like the five o'clock traffic hour in downtown and Stiles kinda wishes it can always be this way.

 

Before they know it, they pile up in his Jeep, Lydia climbing into the passenger seat and Scott and Isaac sharing the back bunk. 

 

Stiles tries really hard to keep calm but he can't stop fidgeting and tapping his fingers on the steering wheel until Lydia reaches over to link their hands. When he turns to look at her, she's staring out the windshield, a peaceful look on her face. Stiles turns to look back at the road with a small smile on his face. 

 

* * *

 

 

The ride to school is unusually quiet. Lydia wasn't kidding when she told Stiles that they're all on the same page because they're a pack. She can actually feel Stiles' nerves rubbing off on her, a certain unease settling in her stomach. She tries to step into his mind frame, tries to figure out how she would feel if she'd lost her memory and had to face five hundred strangers who are not really strangers. She doesn't think she could deal with that, not unless she had someone to help her through. She doesn't even look at Stiles when she reaches over to link their fingers. Honestly, it's as much for her benefit as it is for his. He needs someone to be there for him, and she'd be damned if she isn't that someone. She doesn't miss Scott's smile in the side mirror.

 

By the time they get to school, she can feel Stiles' fingers start to twitch again. She tries to hold on tighter, but as soon as they're parked, Stiles takes a deep breath before letting go of her and jumping out of the car. She can't help the sadness that overtakes her.

 

They talked about it during the week. About whether or not they should hide that they're together, or in a relationship, or whatever the hell they are from the rest of the world. 

 

Stiles insisted they do. He said they should keep it quiet for now, his logic being that Lydia doesn't need all the attention that this could potentially bring, what with her ex having just died and all. Somehow Lydia doesn't think this is the only side to the story. Maybe she's reading too much into this, but for some reason, she can't help but think that Stiles has others reasons for wanting to play it cool. Namely the fact that he's worried if people react badly to it, Lydia might be scared off. Because while he doesn't remember it, he's been told way too many times about Lydia's reluctance to get together with him in the first place, about the school social ladder - seriously, Lydia can't even believe people still take things like that seriously when they have worst problems like Kanimas and alpha packs - and how they didn't run in the same social circles. And while she'll admit that a year ago she would've never wanted to go public with Stiles - hell, a year ago she wouldn't have been with Stiles in the first place - today, she can't think of anything she wants to do more. 

 

She thinks about sticking to their agreement, about standing her ground and staying away from him, because maybe she's wrong, maybe Stiles doesn't want to go public for his own benefit, but she takes one look at him and her resolve weakens. When was the last time this boy did anything for his own benefit? Never. Every decision he has ever made has been based on someone else's well-being, almost always compromising his own health and happiness in the process. And this time it's no different.

 

He's standing next to Scott in front of his Jeep with his backpack, staring out at the school and the groups of people spread out all over the parking lot and the main entrance. Some have already turned to look at him, and she can see him growing even more nervous under their scrutiny. He looks so small and scared in his plaid shirt and red sneakers, and Lydia doesn't care who he is or what's happened to him, no one should have any reason to look so worried. 

 

She takes a deep breath before moving over to him and taking his hand in hers. It snaps him out of whatever dark thoughts he was having, and he looks at her startled. She's so much shorter than him even in her four inch heels, and she loves that he's so much taller. It makes her feel safer.

 

She sends him a look that she hopes is reassuring, but instead of returning it, there's a look of panic on his face as he tries to let go of her. Lydia tightens her grip on him. 

 

"Stiles, unless it's something that you personally don't want, then don't pull away," she whispers and she feels his hand still in hers. 

 

"But Aiden just d-"

 

"Aiden was a great friend to me, but he's not here anymore," she interrupts him. "I don't care what people might think or say. So if you're doing this for my sake, then know that the only thing I want from you is to act the same way here as you do when you're alone with me."

 

He takes her words in before he smiles, and slowly the smile turns into a teasing smirk and she already knows what he's thinking before he says it.

 

"Wow, Lyds, I knew you had kinks, but I didn't know you were into that sort of thing. I mean really, in public?" He comments and Lydia rolls her eyes but she still can't help but chuckle. 

 

"You don't even know the half of it," she shoots back playing at his own game. 

 

He blanches a little and she knows his imagination has run wild again. 

 

"And McCall, keep your supernatural hearing out of my sex life," Lydia says when she notices Scott's smirk. "You too, Lahey."

 

Stiles looks from Scott to Isaac so fast, Lydia's sure he gives himself whiplash. She doesn't even try to fight the smile creeping onto her face. Christ, she's turning into such a softie. But she doesn't care. They're together. Publicly. For all the world to see.

 

Her grin widens when she notices Allison coming their way. She's surprised to see Cora a few feet behind Allison, chatting up one of the students. She's surprised to see Cora here at all.

 

Lydia turns to look at Isaac just as he notices scene unfolding in front of him, and she doesn't miss him tensing up marginally. 

 

Cora sends one last smile at the boy before running to catch up with Allison.

 

"I didn't know you knew Bobby Calahan," Lydia comments as soon as Cora is within hearing distance.

 

"Oh yeah," Cora says casually, looking around at them, her eyes lingering on Isaac a little longer than necessary. "We go way back."

 

"I didn't even know you enrolled," Scott says.

 

"Yeah, well, it looks like I'm staying, so I might as well do something useful with my time."

 

Lydia knows what Cora's trying to do. Hell, she's invented that game. And judging by the murderous look on Isaac's face, it's working. 

 

"Hey Cora!" A blond boy with a Lacrosse jersey calls out to her, and Cora looks back and waves at him.

 

"You know Jake too?" Isaac asks and the venom in his voice is hard to miss.

 

"You guys seem to forget that I lived in this town not too long ago," Cora says, not even bothering to look away from Isaac. 

 

They stare at each other for a few seconds before Cora tears her eyes away from him. 

 

"I'm gonna go see how he's doing," she adds before turning to walk away. "I'll see you guys later."

 

Lydia can see Isaac's hands turning into fists by his side, his eyes glowing yellow for a second.

 

"Isaac," Scott warns under his breath, and Lydia marvels at the power of the Alpha when Isaac's hands loosen up. 

 

"Let's go get our schedules," he barks at them before walking towards the school, his eyes never leaving Cora's back.

 

Yeah, it's definitely working.

 

* * *

 

Stiles tries not to let his nerves get the best of him when they walk into the building. It's funny how he doesn't really remember anything about the place, because so far, he hasn't had a lot of problems remembering places, especially not ones he's been around for a long time. But the same rule doesn't really apply to the school since he can't seem to remember anything about this place.

 

He feels Lydia grip his hand a little tighter, and he looks to his left to see Scott and Allison walking by him deep in conversation, Isaac just a few feet in front of them. Even cora who's walking in to school with the boy called Jake seems to be walking at an unusually slow pace ahead of them so that she doesn't lose track of them.

 

He notices more and more people looking at him the further into school he walks, most of them focused on his and Lydia' linked hands, and everytime he thinks about maybe letting go, he feels Lydia's thumb brush across his own and he knows he can never let her go. Not anymore. 

 

A few students wave awkwardly to him as he passes them by and Lydia's always there to whisper their names to him. Scott is there to supply where he knows them from. Most of them turn out to be on the Lacrosse team.

 

There's also one teacher who seems particularly excited about seeing him, a rather loud man in his late thirties with messy black hair and a whistle around his neck, who comes up to hug him a little inappropriately after taking a break from screaming at some poor guy by the name of Greenberg. 

 

"Finstock," Lydia supplies as soon as the man is out of earshot.

 

"Lacrosse coach," Scott explains.

 

"He also teaches a few classes," Allison adds. "The most random stuff like Econ, and he subbed in Bio for a while."

 

"Lacrosse and Econ and Bio?" Stiles asks, genuinely confused. "Is he like some sort of genius?"

 

"No one really knows," Scott says. "He's a good guy, though. He just likes yelling at Greenberg a lot."

 

Stiles shrugs his shoulders as the group stop in front of the guidance office. Isaac goes in to pick their schedules up and he comes back out two minutes later and hands them each their timetable. None of them actually look at their schedule, instead all of them turning to look at Stiles. The most important thing right now is to make sure he's never left alone in a class, so their priority is making sure there's always at least one of them with him.

 

"Alright, so first period is History."

 

"That's me," Allison supplies.

 

"And me," Isaac adds.

 

"Okay, great," Stiles says. "Then I've got Bio followed by AP Chem."

 

"I'm in both those classes," Lydia says, smiling at him.

 

"I've got Bio with you guys," Scott adds.

 

"Right. Then I've got Lit, Econ, and Math."

 

"I'm with you in 4th and 5th," Scott says.

 

"I think we've all got those with you," Lydia supplies.

 

"Yep," Allison confirms, checking both her and Isaac's schedules.

 

"What about 6th? No one has math?" Stiles asks and there's a slight panic in his voice that he can't seem to control. 

 

Lydia looks at him with wide worried eyes, and she can see Scott turning to go into the office.

 

"I've got 6th period Math," Cora says, literally coming out of nowhere and making them all jump. "You're covered." Everyone turns to look at her. "What? Just cause I said hi to people outside the pack, doesn't mean I'm selling my soul to the devil."

 

"It looked a lot more than saying hi to me," Isaac mutters under his breath.

 

Cora turns to look at him, narrowing her eyes and flaring her nostrils in quiet anger.

 

"Yeah, well, you've made your decision loud and clear, so you don't get to decide who I talk to or what I say," she shoots back at Isaac without missing a beat and Stiles knows that she's trying to hide her hurt behind her anger. "I've got class, so I'll see you later," she mumbles, looking at everyone else before turning to go. 

 

Isaac turns to leave the other way as soon as she's out of sight, muttering a see you later before disappearing in the throng of students. 

 

"Well," Scott says, clearly trying to deflect the awkwardness in the air. "Lyds, I'm with you for first," He continues, taking a peak at the paper in Lydia's hand. 

 

"History is two doors from your class," Allison explains.

 

"Cool, so we'll walk with you guys," Scott says as all four of them start walking together.

 

Stiles' looking around, trying to see if anyone triggers his memory at all, while Lydia examines her schedule. Their hands are linked, Scott and Allison deep in conversation next to them, and before they know it, they're standing in front of a classroom halfway full of students.

 

"We'll see you in Bio," Scott says, looking at Stiles before leaning in to give Allison a kiss on her cheek. "Lyds, I'll save you a seat," he continues before walking into class.

 

Lydia finally looks up from her sheet to nod absently at Scott. She turns to look at Stiles, before standing up on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his mouth. He's too dumbfounded to say anything, and he can see every student around them staring.

 

"Oh my god, Melvin, close your mouth before you swallow a fly or something," Lydia comments, rolling her eyes at a student with thick glasses and a backwards baseball cap standing to their left. "Good luck," she whispers, turning her attention back to Stiles. 

 

She leaves him standing there, a dumb smile on his face. 

 

"Let's go, Romeo," Allison says, laughing lightly as she links their arms and starts walking them towards their class.

 

Stiles can't stop smiling.

 

The rest of the day goes by pretty smoothly. Stiles is grouped with Lydia and Scott in Bio and paired up with Lydia in AP Chem, with both teachers turning a blind eye to the fact that their two most promising students are grouped together. Stiles thinks his father has a little something to do with that, but he could also be wrong. Whatever the case, he's glad for the free pass. 

 

Speaking of his dad, he makes an appearance around lunchtime. Stiles is standing in line, filling up his tray with Cora and Scott when he spots the Sheriff marching into the cafeteria with Lydia and Allison. They wave at him before moving to join Isaac on one of the tables. Stiles has half a mind to be embarrassed that his dad's checking up on him, but he doesn't know any of these people anyway so what the hell. He's much more concerned with what the Sheriff and Lydia seem to be so deep in conversation about.

 

"Scott," he says, tapping his best friend on the shoulder. The latter is too busy piling up fries and cheddar cheese in his tray to actually care. "Dude!" He says louder.

 

"What?!"

 

"Dude, what are my dad and Lydia talking about?"

 

"Huh?" Scott turns to look at the direction Stiles' gaze seems to be focused on. "Oh," Scott says after a minute. "He's just telling her to make sure you guys use a condom."

 

"What?" Stiles nearly yells, his eyes bulging out of their sockets, causing half of the students to turn his way. 

 

"Oh my God," Scott says, chuckling. "Dude, relax, he's just asking about your day so far."

 

"That wasn't funny," Stiles mutters throwing some fries onto his tray. 

 

"Yes it was. You should've seen your face." 

 

They walk over to where the others are, Stiles sulking for a minute or two. His father leaves not long after, and the rest of the day is relatively calm. Classes go by in a blur, and lacrosse practice turns out to be a lot more fun than Stiles anticipates. Lydia, Allison and Cora stay to watch the boys at play - along with a number of other students - and Stiles hears Lydia cheer the loudest when he scores for the first time. He turns to look at her and when she meets his gaze, his heart grows ten times. He doesn't remember the last time anyone looked at him with such pride and love.

 

* * *

 

The first of their "problems" that afternoon comes right about the time the boys are finishing practice. 

 

Jake runs to Cora as soon as the coach blows the last whistle, and while she doesn't look too happy with his enthusiasm, she doesn't shut him down, not with Isaac so close. 

 

Lydia and Allison stand up to warn her when they see Isaac approaching her, but by the time they've made it down the bleachers to where she's standing near the benches, he's already next to her. Lydia can see Stiles and Scott at his tail, both yelling at him not to do anything stupid. 

 

Lydia is surprised to see him so calm. He takes one look at Cora before turning to talk to Jake. 

 

"I think I heard coach asking for you," Isaac says to the boy, and he looks so downright menacing that Jake doesn't even pretend to try and stick around for a second longer. 

 

Cora looks at him like she's annoyed, but then he turns to look at her, and Lydia's never seen him look so tenderly at anyone.

 

"I don't care what Derek thinks," he says and Lydia can't help the smile that creeps onto her face. She can see Allison smiling just as wide to her left. "I can't see you with anyone else, Cora. Especially not an idiot like Jake. I'll deal with Derek somehow, just please don't do this." His pleading tone tugs at Lydia's heart, and before she knows it, Cora stands up on her tiptoes to kiss him. 

 

Everyone's too busy watching the scene unfold before their eyes to notice Derek coming over. Everyone except for Lydia. 

 

Her eyes turn wide when she spots him at the outskirts of the field, and she runs over to him before anyone realizes he's here. She's halfway up to him when they finally notice him, and she shakes her head slightly at Scott and Stiles when they start walking over to him. _I'll talk to him._  

 

"Derek," she says as soon as she's within earshot. "Derek, listen to me," she insists when he keeps walking. She puts two hands to his chest to stop him from walking further, and he finally tears his eyes from the couple long enough to notice her standing in front of him. 

 

Say what you want about Derek Hale, but he would never hurt anyone who hasn't done him wrong, especially not a member of his pack. And Lydia knows that better than anyone else. 

 

"Derek," she repeats and he looks at her again. His eyes look sadder than she expects, and it breaks her heart a little. "Derek, I know she's your little sister, but look at me in the eye and tell me there's anyone you trust more than Isaac in this world," she continues and she knows she's getting to him when his step falters.

 

"Lydia, he's... He'll..." Derek mutters, his eyes trained on Isaac and Cora.

 

"What, hurt her? Turn her into a werewolf?" Lydia finishes for him. "Have you ever seen your sister as upset as she's been this past week?"

 

"No, but-"

 

"No buts, Derek. Remember when she first got back to town? Remember who was helping you protect her? And he didn't even know her back then! Remember who was the most upset when she was dying? He'll protect her better than anyone else ever can, and you know it, Derek."

 

Lydia knows she's won when Derek holds her wrists softly, pulling her hands away from his chest. She maneuvers her hands so that she's squeezing his.

 

"Trust them, Derek."

 

He lowers his head for a moment before looking up at them again.

 

"This doesn't mean you get to kiss her in front of me," he says, looking at Isaac and Lydia can't stop the smile that takes place on her face. This is as good as it's gonna get for now. "In fact, try not to kiss her. Ever."

 

Lydia turns in time to see Isaac and Cora both laughing, Stiles, Scott and Allison approaching them with big smiles. Lydia keeps one of Derek's hands tightly in hers as she pulls him towards the group, and she doesn't miss Stiles beaming with pride at her.

 

Isaac offers his hand to Derek as soon as they're in front of them, and after a moment of hesitation, Derek finally shakes it. Lydia wants to laugh at the formality of it all. 

 

"Lovely. You guys are actually shaking on it like I'm some sort of business deal," Cora mutters and Lydia finally lets out the laugh she's been holding.

 

"You're not a business deal, Cora," Allison says. "It's just that apparently they're still stuck in 1957."

 

"Wait," Stiles jumps in, suddenly looking very confused. "What just happened?" He asks and Lydia laughs again. "I'm serious! Like, I got that you've kissed and made up, but how? I mean, you," he continues pointing at Lydia, "were talking to him, so obviously, you know. And the rest of you guys have ridiculous hearing. I'm the only one who doesn't know what's happening!" 

 

"Hey!" Allison protests. "I'm just as human as you are!"

 

"Yeah, but you're a freaking werewolf hunter, Allison."

 

She shrugs her shoulders and Stiles looks thoroughly annoyed when everyone chuckles, and it hits Lydia like a brick wall how much this feels like something that could've happened before Stiles lost his memory. How much it feels like the old Stiles again. And in that moment, she realizes just how wrong she's been. There is no old Stiles and new Stiles. He hasn't changed. He's still the same caring, smart, wonderful boy he's always been. He's just a bit more forgetful now. And Lydia's more than fine with that, cause at least now they can give him better memories to fill the gaps with.

 

* * *

 

The second bombshell drops by the time they're in the school parking lot.

 

Stiles and Lydia are walking towards the Jeep after practice, the rest of the pack in tow, when he spots two figures standing by the hood of his car.

 

He doesn't recognize either of them at first, and his heart starts beating erratically in his chest, a worry settling in his stomach. But then he makes out the muscular, tan, dimpled man-boy nearly in front of him now, and an image of him awkwardly slow-dancing with Scott flashes to his mind. 

 

"Stiles, hey," the boy says as soon as they're within earshot, flashing him a small good-natured smile. "I know you don't remember me, but I'm-"

 

"Danny," Stiles finishes for him and he knows everyone's trying to hide their shock. 

 

"Oh," Danny says, not entirely sure how to proceed. "I'm sorry, I just assumed you wouldn't remember."

 

"I don't," Stiles confirms, confusing everyone even more. "I mean, I usually don't. But I remember you," he continues, shooting a smile at Danny. "I have selective memory, and right now it chose to remember a time when you and Scott were slow-dancing?" He asks, raising his eyebrows.

 

He hears Lydia snort next to him and Scott let out a groan in the back. 

 

"Oh my God, I'd totally forgotten about that," Allison comments, unable to contain her laughter.

 

"Dude, seriously," Scott says, groaning again. "I'm starting to think I really liked it better when you didn't remember anything." 

 

Danny lets out a laugh despite himself, and even the boy next to him seems to think it's funny. Stiles turns to finally take him in, and it's not hard to recognize him. After all, he saw his brother's dead body barely a week ago, an image he doesn't think he'll ever get out of his brain. Somehow though, Ethan's hollow eyes and pale face are even more disturbing than that image. He feels a wave of sadness wash over him.

 

"You're Ethan," Stiles says when their eyes finally meet. "I'm, um, I'm sorry about your brother." 

 

Ethan's eyes come alive for a second, and he flashes the tiniest of smiles. It's an empty one, but it's there nonetheless. 

 

"Thanks, man."

 

"You guys weren't at school today," Lydia comments after a moment of silence, and Stiles notices the rest of the pack huddling closer.

 

"Yeah, about that," Danny starts. "That's what we're here to talk to you about."

 

"What?" Lydia asks, and there's a fear in her voice that doesn't ever really seem to go away, and it breaks Stiles' heart every time he hears it.

 

He can't stop himself from reaching over to her to squeeze her hand, but then he notices Ethan's gaze fall on their linked fingers, and he immediately lets go.

 

"No," Ethan says, holding his hand out in front of him. "Don't let go," he continues and there's a sadness in his voice that's so easy to spot. "Not on my account. Aiden, uh, he knew about you guys before you knew it yourself. And he, um, he cared about Lydia more than he'd cared about anyone else. Not since he'd been human. And he wanted her to be happy. He had a crappy way of showing it, but he cared."

 

Nobody says anything, everyone silently mourning their loss, and Stiles nods gratefully at Ethan. He doesn't take Lydia's hand in his again, though. There's no need to rub salt in the wound. 

 

"We're getting out of town for a while," Danny finally lays it out in the open. "Until everything's settled. We don't want any part in this, not anymore."

 

"I know my brother would've probably wanted to avenge me if it'd been the other way round, but this is what got him killed in the first place," Ethan explains, trying very hard to maintain his composure. 

 

Stiles doesn't miss the tears on Lydia's cheek or the hiccup Allison lets out.

 

"I don't want any more people to die. Danny can't leave me too. So we're getting out. Just for a while. Just until things are settled."

 

"Yeah, man," Scott says, stepping closer to them. "That's the best thing you can do right now."

 

"But you need to watch out," Ethan warns, looking Scott right in the eye. "You know it's Deucalion, Scott. You know it's him. And you're the only Alpha left in town. You're the thing he wants the most."

 

Scott nods solemnly before turning to meet Stiles' eyes. Stiles feels a worry grip his heart, the thought of losing Scott scaring him to his core.

 

"We're gonna miss you guys," Lydia whispers before stepping towards Danny and wrapping her arms around his waist. He engulfs her in a hug and she's so small compared to him, Stiles almost loses sight of her completely.

 

He notices Cora coming up to hug Ethan to his left, and the way the broken boy buries his face in her hair breaks his heart a little.  

 

Everyone moves to talk to the boys and Stiles feels a chill run through his body.

 

He doesn't remember Danny and Ethan, not really, aside from that really weird dance that keeps playing in his mind, but he still feels an overwhelming sadness pull at him, threatening to take over him completely. Is this how their lives are? Is this constant worry and fear something that they live through every day? How is he supposed to handle it when it's so much easier to give in to the darkness?

 

His breathing starts to get heavy, a panic attack threatening to pull him under right then and there. But then he looks at Lydia as she steps back from Ethan, stopping when she's right next to Scott. Her cheeks are flushed and there are tears on her face, and she looks so impossibly beautiful, more than anyone who's been crying their eyes out has any right to. Scott looks at her before putting his arm around her shoulder and pulling her closer to him. Stiles sees her visibly relax at Scott's touch before leaning to rest her head lightly on his shoulder, and that's his answer right there. That's how he can pull through every time. That's how he can fight the darkness when it threatens to engulf him. With their help. His pack. 

 

He remembers Lydia's words again, _hold your breath, hold your breath, hold your breath_ , playing like a mantra in his head, and he manages to slow down his erratic breathing. The labored gasps turn into soft wheezing sounds before settling down completely. 

 

The grateful smile he shoots Lydia when she turns to look at him is more real than anything he's ever felt.

 

* * *

 

The third and final revelation of the night, the one that threatens to tear down everything they've built, comes when they're back home. 

 

Home. It baffles Lydia how easily she can think of Stiles' place as home. It seems to come so naturally, so easily, that she sometimes wonders if she really lives somewhere else at all. Sure, she misses her mother, but she'd called to tell her she'd extended her "journey to self-discovery because she needs to make peace with herself". It's laughable really, so much so that it makes Lydia want to cry sometimes. But then Melissa plants a kiss to her forehead on her way to bed, or Isaac ruffles her hair before taking a seat next to her on the couch, or she hears the Sheriff laughing at Scott or sees him looking at Stiles with that special crinkle in his eyes that's only there when he's with his son, and Lydia doesn't feel so sad anymore. Because sure, she didn't get to choose the family she was born into, but then she got pretty lucky with the pack that chose her. Her family in every way that matters.

 

She locks herself up in Stiles' room as soon as they're home, burying herself in research to keep from thinking about Danny and Ethan and how much she's gonna miss them. Especially Danny. If she's being completely honest, the only upside to dating Jackson was hanging out with Danny all the time.

 

She pulls up the stack of papers labeled as banshee and starts riffling through the material. It's about time she got to know herself a little better. 

 

Stiles takes his usual seat next to her and Scott joins them after a while. She loses track of time, only pulling away from the research when Stiles gets off the bed to go down and help his dad with dinner. He presses a kiss to her lips before pulling away and Lydia feels a warmth envelop her entire being, a flush creeping up her spine. It takes her a few minutes to wipe the smile off her face and lose herself in research again.

 

Scott follows Stiles after a while, and she's left alone to continue her reading. She hears a commotion downstairs, and she knows that the rest of the pack is here for their nightly dinners. The smile starts to take over her face again when she spots a piece of information in one of the research papers that could potentially change their whole dynamic. She rereads the same line twelve times to be sure, before delving in the paragraph that follows.

 

By the time she's finally sure of what she's read, a plan's already half formed in her mind. She gets off the bed and sprints out of the room and down the stairs like the curtains have been set on fire. She stops in the kitchen where everybody is.

 

"I know how to kill Deucalion," she announces, effectively earning everyone's attention. 

 

Stiles looks at her with a mixture of awe and apprehension. He knows her so well.

 

"What are you talking about?" Scott asks. "I can kill Deucalion."

 

"No you can't, Scott," she replies not missing a beat. She has absolutely no time to waste. "Not without an eclipse. Not without help," she continues and Scott looks almost ashamed, but she doesn't have time to feel sorry for him, not when she's got such important news on her mind. "But there is someone else who can."

 

"Who?" Stiles asks, and she can actually feel his dread, and she realizes that he already knows what her answer's gonna be, because he's Stiles, and somewhere along the way, he became the person who understood her the most.

 

"Me."

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was really not how this chapter was supposed to happen. I didn't know how it was supposed to happen, but that is not it. I don't think you guys will be disappointed by this turn of events, but all I'm saying is it was totally unplanned. Please just keep in mind that this is the first time I've EVER written anything of the sort, so I'm so sorry if it completely sucks :/ Let's just say that the story earned its explicit rating today. Also, I'm very sorry for the long wait, but I had finals. I'm done now, so updates should be a little faster again. As always, unbeta'ed. Let me know what you guys think!

"Me."

 

Stiles feels his heart stop beating for a few second and he wonders if it will ever start again. It's not like he didn't know this would be her answer. He saw it coming. He knew it was all too good to be true, that things were going too well, that this little game of house they were playing wouldn't last for long. He didn't remember much, but one thing he did know was that peace in Beacon Hills never lasted for long. Still, he hoped that maybe this time would prove to be the exception. It doesn't.

 

"Lydia, what are you talking about?" Scott asks again and Stiles can feel the underlying anger in his voice. His own voice would sound exactly the same if he were to speak. "How are you going to kill Deucalion? That's suicide."

 

Stiles looks at Lydia again and she finally meets his eyes. He feels a cold wash over his body, knows that he's not gonna like whatever she's gonna say. And what's worse, the determined look on her face tells him she's gonna get her way regardless of his objections or apprehensions. 

 

"I can kill him because he can't kill me," she starts to explain a little quieter than before, but her voice doesn't lose any of its confidence. It's like she knows that whatever she has to say will not go over well, but hell or high water, she won't back down. "I've read it in three different papers now," she continues, "and I've brushed over it every single time when it's the most valuable piece of information we have. Banshees cannot be killed, not by the supernatural," she explains.

 

"Lydia, don't be ridiculous," Stiles lets out before he can stop himself. He doesn't miss the flash of hurt in her eyes, because he's supposed to support her, be there for her, he's hers for god's sake. But there's no way in hell he'll stand by and watch her sign on to a suicide mission. "There's no way you're immortal."

 

"I didn't say I'm immortal," she snaps back at him and her eyes glaze over slightly, the betrayal stinging more than she'd like. Stiles feels a tightening in his chest, but he's not going to just sit there and watch her risk her life for them. "It's just that neither Deucalion not Peter can kill me," she continues, looking away from Stiles. He feels his heart squeeze so tight he thinks it might stop beating altogether.

 

"Lydia..." Cora mumbles, probably trying to come up with a way to stop her.

 

"It makes perfect sense," Lydia interrupts. "Peter's bite should've either killed me or turned me, and it didn't do either," she continues and Stiles feels himself start to panic because she is making sense, and while no one wants to put any of the pack members at risk, if Lydia can help get rid of one of their bigger - if not their biggest - problem, there's no way they're missing out on that opportunity. "You guys know I'm right. Scott," she says turning to look at him, and Stiles wonders for a second if she's trying to reach out to Scott the Alpha or Scott her friend. Either way, the way his eyes soften at the tone of her voice tells Stiles that she's successfully tearing down the wall and getting through to him. "I'd be dead if I were anyone else. But I'm not."

 

Stiles can see it, the moment Scott starts swaying in her favor. Still, his best friend turns desperately to look at him and when their eyes meet, Stiles knows Scott is still trying to come up with a reason why they shouldn't, and for that alone he's grateful.

 

"Just because he can't kill you, doesn't meet he can't hurt you," Stiles says, looking Lydia right in the eye. "You're just as human as the rest of us. You have a scar from your armpit to your waist to remind you of that." Stiles stops talking for a second, trying to place how exactly he remembers that about Lydia. The edge in his voice is gone, and all that's left is him, his pleading voice trying to make her see how not okay this plan is. 

 

"He's right, Lydia," Derek agrees and Stiles turns to shoot him a grateful look. "Even if you are unaffected by the supernatural, they can still hurt you."

 

"Look, even if we forget about the fact that they can't kill me, let's not forget that I'm the last person they'll expect to attack either of them. They'll be expecting you or Isaac and fangs and sharp teeth. Besides, I can defend myself," Lydia replies without missing a beat, and there's a newfound reassurance, and it worries Stiles so much because she's winning when this is the fight he needs her to lose more than anything in the world.

 

"How-"

 

"I've been training, with Allison and Mr. Argent," Lydia interrupts hurriedly. "Ever since the Kanima thing. I can defend myself," she says again, turning to look at Allison, her eyes begging for support.

 

"That's true," Allison confirms with a sad look. Stiles can tell she doesn't really want to give Lydia the ammunition, but she doesn't have a choice. "She's almost as good as me with the crossbow."

 

"And she can wield a knife better than either of us can," Chris adds, turning to look apologetically at Stiles before shooting Lydia a small, proud smile, which under any other circumstance would warm Stiles' heart. 

 

"See?" Lydia asks, her eyes wide and hopeful as they stare at Scott.

 

Scott opens and closes his mouth a few times, no words coming out, and Stiles feels a panic rise is his chest. This cannot be happening. He looks around the room, his eyes pleading, begging for someone to interfere and stop this madness. 

 

"Lydia, even if that's true, how are you going to do it? We don't know where they are, and it's not like you can just sit in front of Danny's house and wait for them to show up," his dad finally speaks out. 

 

Stiles feels his heart grow ten times at this. His father's support means more to him that anything else ever will. But the way his voice breaks a little, the small wrinkles at the corner of his eyes more prominent than ever, Stiles know that the Sheriff's interference is not only for his benefit. His dad has come to care about Lydia just as much as the rest of them, and he truly doesn't want to see her put her life at risk. 

 

"Scott can call out to them," she replies and Stiles feels himself sinking. She's thought this through. This is not something she's mentioning on a whim. He should've known. She never does anything halfway. "Peter is Scott's maker, or whatever you want to call him. They have a special connection," she continues. "You can call out to him, Scott," she says, turning to look at the Alpha again. "And you know he'll answer. We'll meet them in the woods by Derek's old place, you and me. The others can hide out. You make them think you're making a deal, that you don't want anyone else to get hurt, so you're willing to hear them out."

 

"How will he explain you being there?" Isaac asks.

 

"I'm the banshee. He wants to join their pack, but he wants reassurance that they're not going to kill him, and if I scream, it will alert the rest of his pack."

 

"Lydia," Scott tries feebly. It's a good plan. The best they have. Stiles can't deny that.

 

"They'll be outnumbered but they won't know it," she continues, completely ignoring Scott' pathetic attempt at stopping her. "Once we take out Deucalion, Peter is easier. He's still weak. He's getting stronger. But he's still much weaker than any of you guys."

 

"How do you know that?"

 

"Because of my bond with Peter. Sometimes, when I let myself, I can feel him. His pain and agony, his weakness, his power. I can feel it all. I've taught myself how to control it, how to fight it, but if I let myself, I can feel it."

 

There's a moment of silence while everyone processes the information thrown at them. Stiles looks around the room and he can tell that this is news to all of them.

 

"Which means that if you refuse to reach out to him, I can do it myself," Lydia continues out of nowhere and Stiles understands the threat for what it is. If they won't let her help, then she's going to try to take them out on her own.

 

He feels his world slowly shatter around him. He almost wishes he didn't remember them. It was better when he was oblivious. It didn't hurt as much. 

 

"Why are you doing this?" He asks, meeting Lydia's gaze. His voice cracks and his eyes glaze over as he takes a step back.

 

"Because this is my chance to pay you guys back," she says, and her voice is so broken that it would tug at Stiles' heart if he wasn't so angry at her right now. He hates what she's doing to them. "This is my chance to make up for the shit I've done."

 

"Like what?"

 

"Like drugging you with wolfsbane at my birthday party. Bringing Peter back to life." 

 

"Lydia, that doesn't make sense, you didn't know what you were doing," Allison says, smiling to try and make it all okay, the way she always does when something bad's about to happen. 

 

"It doesn't matter. Look, you guys wouldn't bat an eye if it was Scott's plan, because you trust that he would do everything in his power to make it happen. That he'd fight for it. Same if it was Allison. You've all done your parts to help the pack out, and now it's my turn."

 

There's a long moment of silence that follows and Stiles feels Lydia trying to catch his gaze. 

 

"I know we're all trying to come up with a reason why this plan shouldn't work, but Lydia's as much a part of this pack as we all are, and if she thinks she can do it, I trust her," Cora says suddenly.

 

Stiles feels his world finally shatter around him, grey spots blurring his vision. He can't find his voice and his breath comes in short raggedy puffs of air. He hears Lydia call out to him in the distance, but he doesn't want to look at her. He doesn't want to see her.

 

He turns around, staggering a little before holding on to the wall to steady himself, and then he's running out the door before anyone can say anything else. 

 

* * *

 

She's trying to make them understand how much she needs to do this for the pack as well as herself. She doesn't think she's getting to them, but then Cora speaks up in her defense and Lydia considers going up to her and hugging the life out of her, but she stops herself from doing so.

 

She turns to looks at Stiles and her heart breaks all over again. She can see him pale as realization dawns that they're probably going to agree to her plan. 

 

"Stiles..." Lydia tries to get to him, her voice soft and pleading, but if he hears her, he doesn't make it known. 

 

Instead he blinks a few times, taking gulps of air like he can't breathe. He turns his back to her before stumbling a little and holding on to the wall.

 

"Stiles, please," she says louder to get through to him, but he's deaf to her voice. Instead, he steadies himself before running out of the room. 

 

She runs after him without even thinking about it. It's like her body starts to move on its own accord because it's a natural reaction: wherever he goes, she goes.

 

She catches up to him when he's on the porch, and she can hear him trying to regulate his breathing. He's hunched over, his back to her, and she steps closer.

 

"Stiles," she murmurs before moving her hand to touch his back lightly.

 

He flinches under her touch and jumps away like he's been burned, and the hurt she feels is unlike anything she's felt before. He's facing her now, an angry look that's so unlike him coloring his features and she feels her eyes water on their own accord. 

 

"Stop crying," he says harshly. "You don't get to cry," he continues, and his voice is so thick with emotion, it breaks Lydia's heart all over again. "Not when you're the one who's so insistent on risking your life for everyone while we all try to talk you out of it."

 

"Stiles..." She tries to get out, and it's hard for her to get much else out or she might choke on her sob.

 

"Stop pretending to care," he spits out, and she knows he doesn't mean it, knows it's just the hurt talking, but it only serves to piss her off.

 

"That is not fair," she shoots back, her voice a little louder than she'd like, but he's just so infuriating. 

 

He looks down for a second before meeting her gaze again, and she can see him trying to stop himself from breaking apart. She wants to walk up to him, to hold him so tight the pieces and shards of him will glue together so well that he won't ever feel like he's breaking apart again. Not ever.

 

"Please don't do this," he croaks out, his voice suddenly so small it threatens to break Lydia's heart into a million little pieces.

 

"Stiles, I have to," she begs, her voice just as weak. 

 

She takes one careful step towards him, worried he might run from her again, but he stands his ground. His eyes are so sad as they meet hers, she wishes there was some other way to make him feel better.

 

"Why? Why does it have to be you?"

 

"Stiles, I trusted you every single time you jumped in head first to save the pack, even when it almost killed you, even when you lost your memory," she says, trying to make him understand.

 

"It's not the same thing. You didn't feel the same way I feel," he argues, his voice a little louder than she expects and it sets her on edge because how dare he.

 

"Just because I didn't figure it out when I was five, doesn't mean I didn't care that you were risking your life for us."

 

She's been mostly in control of her emotions, but she's not sure she can stay that way for much longer. That he would even insinuate that his life is less valuable to her than hers is to him makes her want to hurt someone. Sure, she didn't realize her feelings till much later, but that doesn't mean she didn't worry about him every time she knew he was out there. Hell, she even jumped into a live flame to make sure he made it back one time.

 

"If you die..."

 

"What, you'd go crazy?" She asks before he can continue, and she can't help but wonder for a second if he remembers that day in his bedroom. The recognition in his eyes says he does. "Guess what, Stiles?" She asks in a small, shaky, harsh voice. "I watched you die." She feels a tear make its way down her cheek. She hates that he thinks she didn't care, but mostly she hates thinking about that day in Deaton's clinic, hates remembering how she felt him struggle under her fingers, trying to come up to the surface and breathe in the air he needed. Hates remembering how his body went slack under her hands, his dead eyes looking up at her beneath the cold murderous water. "I killed you, Stiles," she continues, looking away from him as more tears make their way down her face. "I held you underwater until you couldn't breathe anymore. Until your face turned blue and your dead eyes stared at me. I watched your body float back to the surface, lifeless and limp, all because of me." He takes a step closer to her and she feels her entire body call for his, but she's too mad at him to give in. It makes her so angry that he would even think that he's less important than she is. "You think that was easy for me? You think I didn't feel my world fall apart around me when you took your last breath? How about when you didn't wake up until sixteen hours later when you were supposed to only be gone for a few minutes? You think I didn't go crazy back then? You're not the only one who'd be devastated, Stiles. The difference is, I trust you enough to come back to me."

 

"How am I supposed to trust you to want to come back to me when you keep saying that you never wanted this in the first place?" 

 

She should feel bad that he doesn't trust her yet, but she doesn't. She hasn't really given him any reason to. Not in the past.

 

"I said I didn't realize that I wanted this, not that I didn't want it. And just because you've held on to something for a shorter period, doesn't mean you need it any less."

 

The look in his eyes says he understands. 

 

She finally gives in and closes the distance between them, and his hand reaches out to cup her cheek. He looks so broken, his long lashes fluttering under the strain of tears threatening to fall, and it's hard to think of a time when she didn't love him. 

 

"I need you to trust me, Stiles," she whispers, her hand reaching out to curl into his shirt. "Trust that I can do this. Trust that I'm always gonna want to come back to you." 

 

He swallows thickly and she knows he's straining to keep himself together. He wipes a stray tear off her cheek before leaning down to press a kiss to her lips. He lets go only to wrap his arms tightly around her and bury his head into her shoulder. The way he clings at her tugs at her heart, and she holds him tighter, breathing him in. He smells familiar, like the pillow she's been sleeping on for the past week and the hoodie she's been living in for the past year. Like home.

 

"I trust you," he whispers, his voice so low she almost doesn't hear. "Come back to me."

 

"Always."

 

* * *

 

Stiles doesn't let go of Lydia after that. They walk back into the house hand in hand, sit side by side when the pack starts planning their next move.

 

There's another big argument when they work on their plan of attack because Stiles wants to be there and everyone's worried about him because he's the most human of them. He hates that. That they think he's weak just because he's human. He hates it so much. According to what they've told him and the little he's starting to remember, he's been there for everything that's happened, helping Scott with every problem, and he's made it out alive every time, humanity and all. 

 

In the end, they have no choice but to let him come along, granted that he stays hidden until it is absolutely necessary to help.

 

The plan's pretty straightforward if anything. Scott will call out to Peter, and he and Lydia will meet them in the woods, somewhere close to Derek's old house. The woods are very thick in that area, which will give the others a chance to hide out in trees and bushes. Allison and Derek will stay together, Isaac and the Sheriff in one group, and Cora, Stiles, and Chris make up the third. The three groups will hide out in the woods and will ambush them when it's time. The only thing Lydia needs to do is get close enough to stab Deucalion. She needs to do it because Scott can't overpower him, not yet, and even if Deucalion manages to land in a blow, she will survive it. They're counting on the element of surprise, because the one person they won't expect to lead a fight is Lydia. Her dagger will be dipped in wolfsbane though, so that will weaken the Alpha. Scott will attack Peter at the same time the others will come out of hiding to fight. 

 

Allison tries to convince them to let her or Chris shoot Deucalion from a distance to avoid Lydia having to be so close to him, but Isaac argues - rightfully - that this is exactly the kind of thing they will be on the lookout for. Two werewolf hunters with more weapon knowledge than the Police department in Beacon Hills is what they'll be expecting. A 5'3" banshee who owns more pairs of shoes than Posh Spice is not.

 

Halfway through their planning, Melissa decides it's better to skip the conventional seated dinner for that night, and she starts handing them their plates instead. 

 

Despite his earlier talk with Lydia, and everyone's constant reassurance that they won't let anything happen to her - after all, they care about her almost as much as he does - the tightening in Stiles' stomach doesn't let up, and he finds that he doesn't have a lot of appetite. He spends much of his time quietly playing with his food instead, pushing his peas around, back and forth until they threaten to fall off the edge of his plate. Allison takes his plate after a while, and he tries to shoot her a grateful smile, but he's not sure it comes out right.

 

He can feel Lydia's eyes flitter to him every few minutes, but he can't bring himself to look back. The more they plan and talk, the lower he feels his spirits sink, until all he can do is quietly stare at his hands in his lap.

 

He doesn't linger for much longer than necessary, excusing himself at the first chance he gets. He can feel Lydia getting up after him, hears her wish everyone a good night, and it's a weird feeling he's going through, wanting nothing but to be with her, but also wishing he could forget all about her again, because then maybe the thought of losing her to a pair of alphas won't hurt as much, and the thought of never being able to hold her again won't cut as deep.

 

In the end, the former proves to be stronger. He stops when he's in the middle of his room, his back to the door, breathing a little harder than usual as he tries to chase the bad thoughts out of his mind. He hears Lydia's soft footsteps on the rug as she closes the door and moves to stand behind him, can imagine her small socked feet - black with white polka dots - pushing against the plush carpet. He feels her tentatively reach out to touch his waist with her fingers, digits grazing his shirt lightly, hesitant and unsure, and he immediately moves his hand to hold hers. It's all the confirmation she needs before she moves closer behind him, pressing her back to his, her body curving perfectly to fit with his despite their height difference. She loops her arms around his waist, and he holds her hands there, not wanting her to ever loosen her grip on him. He feels her press her forehead between his shoulder blades, and an inexplicable calm takes over him. He doesn't remember ever feeling so complete, almost like a missing piece inside of him just made its way home.

 

"Stiles..." Lydia whispers almost inaudibly, and he feels it reverberate in his body more than hears it. "I love you."

 

His heart races at her words, so unexpected yet so welcome, and he feels the world around him disappear until it's just him and her in this moment right now. His hands automatically tighten their grip on hers.

 

"I know it's crazy for me to tell you when you've only remembered me for a couple of weeks, but it feels as if I might burst if I don't get it out," he hears her continue, voice as low as ever, and he feels a million emotions threatening to consume him because Lydia loves him, and he might feel the same way. 

"You don't have to say it back," she continues, her fingers holding on tightly to his, and he feels her mouth move against his back and it feels so impossibly good. "In fact, please don't say it back. Not unless you're 3000% sure, and I don't think you are. Not if I'm judging by our earlier conversation. I just needed to get it off my chest and to let you know how I really feel. Because I want to try this new thing with you. This thing where I'm completely honest about everything. So please don't say it back. Because you might not feel it, or you might not be ready. And god knows you've told me enough times in the past when I wasn't willing to listen."

 

He feels his throat tightening at her words, and the only thing he can do is hold her tighter, because this beautiful, strong, amazing woman loves him, and she knows he needs more time to come to term with his feelings, but she also knows he needs to hear how she feels about him. 

 

He feels her move her head to press a kiss to his shoulder blade, and he feels a tingling travel through his body, threatening to engulf him entirely.

 

He can't stop himself from turning so suddenly in her arms she jumps back startled, but she has no time to get away before he's cupping her face with his hands and pressing his lips to hers with a newfound hunger. It's like she has been waiting for him to make this move for her entire life, and their lips attack one another, each one trying to claim dominance, but neither really wanting to win. He sucks on her lower lip and she responds with a whimper, her hands gripping the shirt on his lower back tighter, lifting it slightly, and he feels her finger graze the sensitive skin, and it's all he can do not to explode right then and there. He moves his hands from her face to her body instead, touching anywhere he can get his hands, lingering a little longer on her upper waist, one of his thumbs grazing her nipple. He feels her shiver under his touch, and before he knows it, she's moving them towards his bed, pulling him by the front of his shirt, and he lets go of her mouth only to leave a trail of hot open-mouthed kisses down her neck and across her collarbone. She responds in kind, her plump lips sucking the sensitive skin, finding his Adam's apple and leaving a hot kiss there, her tongue moving across his neck, sucking and licking until he thinks he might come just from this. 

 

They pull apart only when they hit the edge of his mattress, and he lowers her down carefully onto the bed. It's the first time he's really looked at her since they stepped into his room, and he feels his heart beat wildly in his chest when he takes in her appearance, hair messy from where he's tangled one of his hands, lips swollen from being kissed too hard, eyes heavy with want. She's never looked more beautiful, so strong yet so willing to come apart under his touch. She moves her hand slowly from his chest to his neck, fingers trailing slowly as she takes him in, and he can't help but shiver, remembering how her touch seems to have the same effect on him. 

 

She moves to lie down in the middle of the bed under him, and he moves along with her, hovering over her, one elbow resting right by her ear, trailing his other hand across her collarbone, fingers grazing the top of her breasts. 

 

"You're so beautiful," he whispers without meaning to, but he's not ashamed because she deserves to be worshipped and told just how perfect she is.

 

She flushes lightly, her hand moving to the nape of his neck and pulling his lips back to hers, and it's like a new gust of wind has come to light up the fire again, and pretty soon they're back to the same frantic pace as before, lips sucking and marking what's theirs, hands roaming each other's bodies, fingers teasing, until finally Lydia can't take it anymore. She holds on tightly to his shirt, pulling it swiftly over his head. She throws the shirt haphazardly across the room, and they both giggle when she almost whacks his eye with her elbow. They're a messy tangle of limbs, hearts open and laughter on their lips, and they wouldn't have it any other way. 

 

"That's not fair," Stiles says, a teasing smile playing on his lips, eyeing Lydia's shirt.

 

She laughs a little before pulling his head down so his ear is right by her mouth.

 

"Then do something about it," she whispers in a low voice and it shoots right down to his groin. 

 

Stiles barely manages to hide his squeak behind a cough before he's moving a little further back, his head now hovering just above Lydia's stomach. 

 

He starts moving her black tank top up by the hem, almost agonizingly slow, leaving soft kisses on the creamy skin of her stomach, his mouth moving upwards as his hands lift the shirt higher. The moans he's eliciting from her almost prove to be his undoing, but he manages to keep his cool. It's even harder not to come apart when she tangles her hand in his hair, fingers tugging lightly at it, tightening a little whenever he sucks a little harder. He stops kissing her when he reaches the bottom of her breasts, pulling back to remove the shirt entirely. He looks at the black lace bra, soft flesh peaking through flimsy material, and it's all he can do not to tear the delicate fabric apart. 

 

Instead, he moves to look at her, a silent question there. She pulls his face down to hers, their lips meeting again, a little slower this time.

 

"This one opens at the front," she whispers in between kisses, and it's all the answer Stiles needs.

 

He trails his hand down to the dip between her breasts, his fingers expertly maneuvering their way around the clasp as he leaves a trail of kisses on her collarbone, his other hand pulling one of the straps down her shoulder. He finally hears the telltale sound of the clasp opening, and he pulls back for a second to look at Lydia one more time. Her eyebrows are raised, and she has a half impressed half surprised look on her face.

 

Stiles shrugs, a memory of him and Scott and a weird bra-removal tutorial on youtube threatening to break through, but he's got no time for that, not when Lydia's fingers are slowly moving one of the bra cups to expose more of her skin. He groans at her antics, moving his head to pull one of her fingers into his mouth and she throws her head back in laughter. He thinks that it's not possible for anyone to feel as good as he feels right now, tangled up in Lydia's arms, with her carefree laugh filling up the room. 

 

She pulls her finger out of his mouth before taking it between her lips and sucking teasingly, and it's the most arousing thing Stiles has ever seen. 

 

He silences her by dipping his head between her breasts, leaving hot kisses there, before moving his lips over to her left nipple, mapping his way with a trail of kisses, wanting to taste every bit of her, and pushing the bra cup with his left hand. 

 

Lydia whimpers a little before letting out a moan that shoots straight to Stiles' groin, and his hard-on is starting to strain in his pants, but he doesn't care because he's not sure he's ever going to feel this good again. 

 

Lydia lifts her left shoulder a little, allowing Stiles room to pull out the bra strap, and then does the same with her right shoulder, so he can discard of the lace undergarment entirely. He throws it to the side before taking her left nipple in his mouth, his tongue teasing, slowly circling the already hard mound. His right hand moves to cup her right nipple, fingers rubbing and teasing the sensitive flesh. 

 

"Stiles," Lydia whimpers, one of her hands moving to cup his cheek and pull his mouth back to hers, greedily sucking on his lips. She takes his free hand in hers and moves it further down to rest in between them, and Stiles understands what she's asking for.

 

He moves his hand further down, reaching the hem of her skirt and pulling it up slowly. He presses his palm flat between her legs, and he almost comes undone when he feels just how soaking wet she is through the flimsy material. He wants to touch her so bad, but he also wants to savor every second of this, so he takes his time pushing the material aside with his fingers, finally finding her clit just as she reaches into his sweatpants and under his boxer briefs, swiftly wrapping her fingers around his hard-on.

 

It's all he can do not to come right then and there, but he manages to pull himself together for a few moments, pushing one finger into her folds and earning himself another moan. He lets out a few choice words under his breath because this girl will be the death of him. 

 

"Stiles," Lydia manages to choke out in between whimpers, her voice breathy and needy as she tightens her grip on him, moving her fingers up and down his length until he can barely hang on. "Please, I'm so close," she continues and he can't stop the moans and groans he's emitting either, and he rubs a little harder with his thumb at her clit, infinitely more aroused by how wet he's making her, how heavy he's making her pant, how good she feels, how good she's making him feel. He finally pushes a second finger in just as she tightens her grip on him, her thumb teasing the head, and he can't hold on any longer. They come just a few seconds apart, their soft moans and whimpers filling up the room, and Stiles wonders for a wild second just how strong werewolf hearing is, but he doesn't have time to dwell on that before Lydia's pulling him down to her, their lips meeting in a lazy kiss. He moves his head to rest against her shoulder, his breath hard and labored against her body, his fingers enjoying the feeling of her coming apart around them. They cling to each other for a while, neither moving, neither wanting to let the other go, and the feeling of bare skin on bare skin is possibly the most intimate Stiles has ever felt, and he thinks that he might love Lydia, and not just cause of what just happened, but he also knows she's right. He's not ready to say it.

 

Lydia presses a kiss to the shell of his ear, so soft it's almost a whisper, and Stiles feels his heart squeeze. He pulls away from her, turning on the bed to plop down on his back next to her. He pulls his fingers out of her, and he can't stop himself from licking them clean. Lydia looks at him like he's the second coming, and he sends a big smile her way, savoring the way she tastes on his lips.

 

"If I'd know that's what an I love you got me, I would've said it years ago," Lydia mumbles half serious half teasing, and Stiles can't stop the chuckle that bubbles to the surface. 

 

He pulls her closer to him, her head now resting right where his heart is threatening to pop out of his chest, and he kisses her hair. He doesn't know how he got so lucky.

 

Lydia looks up at him smiling, and she leans up for one more lingering kiss. 

 

"You taste like me," she mumbles.

 

"You taste amazing," he can't help but shoot back, cheesy as it sounds, because it's true, and he's happy he said it, especially when he notices the blush creeping up her neck.

 

"I should, um, go wash up," she says, her lips never leaving his, and he feels a surge of something travel along his body at the feeling of her lips moving over his, tickling and teasing, her hot breath fanning his face. She doesn't move to get up though, instead deepening the kiss, and Stiles pulls her even closer to him.

 

They're close to starting another round when there's a frantic knock on the door.

 

"Guys!" Comes Scott's voice in a loud whisper. "I've been trying to stall for as long as I can, but round two is a no-go. Parental units want to check that you guys are okay and I can't convince them to give you space for much longer."

 

They should be embarrassed that they were heard, probably mortified, but instead they pull away to laugh, Lydia burying her face in Stiles' chest for a second. 

 

"Thanks dude," Stiles manages to get out between laughs and Lydia kisses him one last time before pulling herself up. 

 

She picks up her bra and Stiles' shirt, along with some other items from her bag - yes, she has a bag in his room now - before turning to look at him when she's by the bathroom door.

 

"Find another shirt," she teases and Stiles can't stop himself from getting up to go to her.

 

She seems just as eager to be close to him, and she leans up on her toes to meet his lips the minute he's close enough. His fingers tug at her bare waist and she lets out a soft moan. They have to stop, he knows, so he finally pulls way, cupping her cheek just to look at her for a second. She's so beautiful. He tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear before pressing one last kiss to her lips and taking a few steps back. She's looking at him with so much love in her eyes, his heart nearly breaks in half. 

 

"THEY'RE MOVING UP THE STAIRS!" Scott's voice can be heard through the door again and they can't stop from chuckling at his panic. Lydia looks at him for a second longer before finally going into the bathroom and closing the door behind her. 

 

Stiles backs away from the door until he hits the edge of his mattress, and he lets himself fall back on his bed. 

 

"I am so whipped," he whispers to himself, the smile not leaving his face.

 

* * *

 

She can't seem to wipe the smile off her face. 

 

She's standing in Stiles' shower, hot water streaming down her body, hands in her hair, and all she can see behind closed lids is Stiles, hair mussed and lips parted, fingers ghosting over her breasts, hands touching wherever they can reach, and it's all she can do not to scream right then and there. She's loud like that, and with all the commotion outside the door, she knows the many people in the room will probably hear her if she does. So she tries to stifle her moans and think about other things. Like a cactus. Cacti are harmless. They're not sexy. They're wild and pale green, and they have pins messily sticking in random directions. A lot like Stiles' hair, actually.

 

_Damn it._

 

She wonders how exactly Stiles knew to do all those things. How he knew exactly how to flick his tongue over her nipple, or how to put the right amount of pressure on her clit to make her feel so good. She doesn't know if she wants to know if he's already lost his virginity to someone else. As far as she knows, he hasn't, but she can't exactly fault him if he has, even if she does feel a little jealous - okay, a lot, and by a lot she means she wants to find whoever he lost his virginity to and drop a cactus or two in their bed - thinking about him with someone else. He doesn't remember much anyway, so he probably won't remember even if he did, but Lydia still wonders if maybe there was someone else or two or three while she was too blind to see him.

 

She finally gives up on controlling herself, especially when images of Stiles moaning into her skin pop behind her lids again. She uses her fingers and the stream of water to give herself another wave of pleasure, muffling her sounds in her arms. She switches to cold water right after she climaxes to cool down a bit.

 

She wonders how Stiles is managing to disguise the hot mess that's his pants on the other side. Thank god for darker pants because she'd been in the bathroom for barely thirty seconds when she's heard the Sheriff's muffled voice, so there's no way Stiles had any time to actually clean himself up. 

 

She only hops out of the shower when she thinks she might give herself hypothermia, and towel dries her body before pulling on a pair of black leggings and Stiles' shirt. And socks. Striped and multicolored this time. She loves walking around with no shoes, but socks she can never do without.

 

She gets out of the bathroom after checking her reflection in the mirror one last time, hair still wet and loose around her shoulders. 

 

She has to physically stop herself from laughing once she's out the door. Stiles stands awkwardly by his bedroom window, desk chair strategically placed in front of him to hide his, um, area, while Cora, Allison, Isaac, Sheriff Stilinski, Melissa, and Scott are all in the room for some reason.  

 

"Lydia, hey!" Stiles stammers uncomfortably once he sees her, trying to deflect some of the attention off him. 

 

It works. Lydia is tempted for a second to throw him under the bus and get the attention right back on him because it's so much more fun to see him squirm, but she owes him at least one seeing as he just gave her possibly the best orgasm of her life. Twice, if she's counting the shower. Not that she'd ever tell him. She picks up the hoodie lying around on the chair right next to her, the one she won't ever return to him, and turns to where Stiles is standing.

 

"I didn't use up all the hot water. And yes, you can borrow your hoodie back, but just this once. After that, I want it back," she states, throwing the piece of clothing his way.

 

He catches it easily, shooting her a grateful look and breathing a sigh of relief. 

 

"I'm going to hop in the shower real quick," he states to no one in particular, moving around the room with the hoodie strategically placed to hide the front of the sweatpants. 

 

He picks up another pair of pants and some other items before moving towards the bathroom, squeezing Lydia's hand when he passes her.

 

She smiles and the tender gesture and moves to sit on the edge of his bed next to Allison when she hears the door close after him.

 

"Okay, well," Melissa starts, "we were just checking to see if you guys needed anything, but you seem to be handling yourselves quite well, so we'll be downstairs if you need anything," she says throwing a smile at Lydia before moving towards the door and pulling the Sheriff along with her. 

 

Lydia can't help but smile at the two of them long after they're gone. They've gone through so much, alone and together, and they've always been there to support each other through it all. If there's ever proof that it's never too late, it's them.

 

"Alright," Cora says suddenly, snapping Lydia out of her daze. "I'm gonna need you two to get out for a bit because we've got some stuff we need to discuss," she states, pointing her finger to where Scott and Isaac are standing.

 

"This is not your room," Scott argues. "You can't kick us out." 

 

"It's not yours either, and yes she can if you ever wanna be in my room again," Allison deadpans with the sweetest smile she can muster.

 

"Come on guys..." Isaac starts to complain.

 

"Jesus, guys, just give us five minutes alone," Cora says, running out of patience. "Use your werewolf hearing to eavesdrop on us if you want. You know you're going to anyway."

 

"Fine," Scott mutters sullenly, turning to get out, pulling Isaac along with him.

 

"Prepare the snacks in the meantime!" Cora shouts after them once the door is closed and Lydia can't help but chuckle. 

 

She moves back on the bed to rest her back against the headboard, and Allison takes off her shoes and joins her.

 

"How are you guys feeling?" Allison asks Lydia as Cora moves to lie down horizontally on the bed.

 

"We're fine," Lydia answers truthfully, smiling at her friend's concern.

 

"Fine? The way you guys were going at it, it sounded a lot better than fine!" Cora lets out crudely and Lydia tries really hard not to blush.

 

"Going at it?" Allison asks, looking from Lydia to Cora, her eyebrows raised. "Oh my God!" She exclaims when she makes sense of what Cora's saying, her eyes as wide as saucers. "Did you guys just have sex?"

 

"No!" Lydia almost screams.

 

"Yes!" Cora says at the same time.

 

"Oh god," Lydia mutters, a little bit beyond embarrassed. "We didn't, not yet, not all the way."

 

"Don't tell me all that screaming was from a couple of kisses," Cora says.

 

"Jesus, Cora, we weren't screaming," Lydia answers, smiling nervously. "And no, it wasn't just from kissing," she mumbles. 

 

"Then what?"

 

"Seriously?" Lydia asks, blushing furiously. "Do I really have to explain to you how people can climax from things beside actual penis-to-vagina intercourse?" 

 

Allison laughs a little and a after a minute so do Lydia and Cora because that is the most ridiculous thing anyone's said all night.

 

"So?" Allison says suddenly a few minutes later. "How big is he?"

 

"Oh my God, Allison!" Cora exclaims, laughing at the question and Lydia wonders if people can actually suffer from a permanent case of embarrassment.

 

"What?" Allison shrugs her shoulder. "You're the one who was listening to them actually doing it! Besides, that's the first question Lyds asked me after I got together with Scott." 

 

"And now I wish I never did," Lydia mutters, thinking about Isaac and Scott actually listening in on this conversation. She wonders if it would be as awkward for them as it is for her. "I didn't actually get to see him yet," she continues after a few seconds because screw it, this might be embarrassing as fuck but she likes her girl time. 

 

"But?"

 

"I did get to touch, and, um, he seemed... let's just say he seemed rather generously developed," she lets out and Allison snorts. 

 

She can't help but chuckle when her eyes meet Cora's and Allison soon joins them.

 

It's at that same exact moment that Stiles decides it's the right time for him to get out of the bathroom in nothing but a pair of dark red sweatpants, the same color as his Lacrosse jersey. The room goes quiet as all eyes turn to him as soon as he opens the door, and Lydia can't help but lick her lips at the sight. His pants hang low on his hips, and maybe it's the lighting, but his taut muscles seem to be a lot more defined than usual, a few droplets of water making their way down his chest. His wet hair sits perfectly messy on his head, and he's wearing the most adorable confused look at the sight before him.

 

"Generously developed indeed," Cora can't help but comment and all three girls burst out in laughter in front of a poor, confused Stiles.

 

* * *

 

Stiles has not time to wonder what exactly the girls find so funny about him, because as soon as he's out of the bathroom, Scott and Isaac burst through the door with a stack of DVDs and talks of chips and popcorn and chocolate elsewhere.

 

"What's all this?" Lydia asks, turning her attention to the boys.

 

"Well, I for one have had enough supernatural shit for one day, and since we're going head to head with two of the most neurotic alphas around in two days, we decided a night in is in order," Isaac explains. "So we are not talking about anything remotely supernatural tonight. We're going to enjoy kickass movies and sugary treats until we can't see another sour stick again."

"Sounds like a good plan to me," Stiles says smiling before throwing on a shirt.

Everyone scrambles out of the room to go downstairs, blankets and pillows tucked under their arms, until Stiles and Lydia are the only two left in the room. Stiles hands Lydia two pillows and picks up one of his larger blankets . He can't stop himself from leaning to press a quick kiss to her lips before pulling away. They run into his dad and Melissa on their way downstairs, both going up to get some "much-needed sleep".

Everyone's already settled when they get downstairs, Cora and Isaac curled up together on the floor while Scott and Allison take up most of the big couch. Lydia and Stiles move to lie down on the floor to Cora's left, and Isaac throws a pack of peanut butter cups their way as soon as they're settled.

Lydia smiles when Stiles silently offers her one of the two cups in the pack, before snuggling closer to him. Stiles feels her slip one of her hands under his shirt, and he wonders if there's a better feeling in the world than sitting with his pack, the girl he likes - loves - curled up in his arms.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's literally no excuse for how late it is. Nada. Take comfort in the fact that the next chapter is already being written, and that there's just that one left and an epilogue, so we're almost to the finish line! Shout out to my beta/bff/lydia-to-my-stiles/partner-in-crime/enemy/other-half Sarah. Yeah, that's all.

The next few days go rather quietly. 

 

The mornings are especially a drag because Melissa, Chris and the Sheriff all agree that even though a plan of an attack on two supernatural creatures is in the making, school is still a priority. It's sort of funny, when Lydia thinks about it, that juggling villains and history class has become a part of their routine. For most people it's school, friends, homework, chores, bed. For them it's school, pack, homework (but not really because mythical creature research), dealing with the newest psychologically and mythically unstable guest of Beacon Hills, bed. 

 

She skims through all her classes like she always does, not really paying attention to anything on the board, but somehow perpetually one step ahead of the teacher. Stiles is pretty much the same, she knows. Despite his significantly shorter attention span, the boy does better in school than anyone aside from her. Isaac's smarter than he likes to believe and Scott is still trying to maintain his new healthier lifestyle. Allison is a genius in her own right, and surprisingly, for a girl who hasn't been to school in over 6 years, Cora keeps up with the curriculum better than most people can.

 

Lydia and Stiles can't seem to stay away from each other for longer than an hour. And not just cause they're hormonal teenagers - because trust her, they are - but also because they seem to find strength and comfort in each other. Still, they barely get to spend any time alone, until they finally sneak out to Lydia's house one afternoon for some privacy, but their alone time almost turns into a disaster when half of Beacon Hills starts looking for them. It ultimately leads Isaac to barge in on them, all frantic eyes and fast breathing, only to find them half-naked on Lydia's bed. 

 

He's both too relieved and too pissed off to actually feel bothered or embarrassed by the display in front of him, and all he leaves them with is a "next time you decide to disappear off the face of the earth for a little midday romp, make sure to turn your fucking phones on." He's not even out of the house before they erupt in laughter, tangled up in each other.

 

They don't move to leave though, choosing to relish their time together. And when she finally feels Stiles fill her in for the first time, feels him cling to her as she holds him close, too close but not close enough, never close enough, Lydia understands it for the first time, what it feels like to be whole. 

 

She feels it again when Stiles leaves a trail of hot kisses from her neck down to her stomach - he stops for some exploration at mount peak - and again when he pulls her lower lip in between his teeth, and again when his fingers ghost over her waist, eyes looking at her with so much adoration, lips whispering her name over and over like a secret prayer.

 

She doesn't tell him how worried she is about facing a crazy alpha, doesn't tell him how unsure about it she is, doesn't tell him that all she wants to do is stay in this moment forever, in her bed, wrapped up in the arms of the boy that she loves.

 

Instead, she clings tighter to his body when they're in bed, holds on tighter to his hand when they're walking out of the house. It's funny how a gesture as simple as hand holding can make her feel so much. 

 

She was big on PDA when she was with Jackson. They made out in all the inappropriate places, touched each other everywhere they shouldn't, made their friends uncomfortable more often than not. 

 

She never felt safe with him, though. Never felt the need to just reach out and find his fingers when he'd walk by her, or look for his face first whenever she walked into a room where she knew he was going to be, or run her fingers through his hair when they were lazily sprawled out on the couch. Not like with Stiles. And it's ridiculous because even when she was with Jackson, she only ever felt safe when Stiles was around. 

 

Lydia used to think it absurd that people talked about an after-sex glow, but she can actually feel herself glowing, and she can see the stars in Stiles' eyes, and the happiness they feel is so real she can almost touch it.

 

When they walk back into Stiles' house that night, hands tightly clasped together, everyone's already there, milling around the house, setting the table up for dinner. Allison's the first to see them walk in. She's got a big bowl of salad in one hand, some kitchen utensils in the other, and a big smile on her face. She moves over to kiss them both, surprising them a little. 

 

"I hope it was worth scarring Isaac forever," she whispers before walking away.

 

Lydia feels herself burn up but she can't stop smiling because it was so, so worth it, Allison has no idea.

 

The lips, the tongue, the fingers on this boy are ridiculously gratifying, and what's worse is he _knows_ how to put them to good use. 

 

She's almost feeling hot and bothered again when Stiles finally starts walking towards the kitchen, dragging her along, and she's thankful for the distraction, because she can't go on with this particular trail of thought, not unless she can get Stiles to push her up against the wall and take her right there, and they can't exactly do that with eight other people in the house.

 

There's a two-second-pause when they walk into the kitchen, and everyone stops what they're doing to look at them. It's the longest two seconds of Lydia's life. 

 

Melissa comes over to them with a pitcher of water and a small bowl of some kind of dip, and hands them both to Lydia. 

 

"These are ready to take out," she says in a casual voice. "Stiles, get some cups and take them out to the table."

 

As Lydia walks out of the kitchen and into the dining room, she thinks she's never loved Melissa more.

 

* * *

 

It's Allison's idea. 

 

They wake up the next morning (noon) only to find her and Cora standing in the doorway, smiles plastered on their faces and eyes wide with excitement. 

 

Stiles and Lydia took the bed the night before. They started out the night with Scott somewhere to Stiles's right, but Stiles distinctly remembers kicking him off the bed sometime in the middle of the night when he started groping his ass, mumbling something about how Allison likes it. They're a close pack, he knows, but somehow Lydia and Scott groping him at the same time is not something he envisioned happening to him.

 

"Get up, get up, get up!" Allison nearly yells. She looks extra perky and even Cora seems to be in an unusually bright mood, so much so that she eventually starts pulling the covers away from them to get them to wake up. 

 

"Get your asses out of bed," she says as she continues to pull their blankets away. "It's about time we recreate some memories."

 

Stiles hears Lydia let out a very un-Lydia-like groan before she buries her face in his chest, and he can't help but tighten his grip around her.

 

"Cora, for the love of everything, we're going on a psycho-alpha-killing-mission tomorrow," Isaac mumbles, hiding his head under his pillow when Allison pulls the blinds open.

 

"Exactly," Allison says. "Which is why we could do with some cheering up. And we still owe Stiles some memories." 

 

Stiles' ears perk up at that, and he finally opens his eyes wide enough to take everything in. Cora's practically mauling Isaac, trying to get him up. Isaac's eyes are hidden underneath the pillow, but the growing smile on his face is hard to miss, even though he's trying to pretend that his girlfriend straddling him is actually annoying. It's nauseatingly cute and Stiles has never seen either of them look so happy. 

 

Allison, on the other hand, is kneeling down by Scott's feet, using a feather - where the hell did she get a feather from? - to tickle the soles of his feet. And judging by the very high pitched squeak Scott lets out, her tactic's working.

 

Stiles closes his eyes for a second, and he can still hear their yapping in the background, but the only thing he can focus on is Lydia. He feels her pull herself closer to him, her breath hot on his skin, her lips teasing his collarbone. He's drawing nameless shapes on her arm with his finger, and he's on the sixth letter of the three-worded confession he's writing when he realizes what he's doing. Maybe the shapes aren't as nameless as they seem. 

 

Lydia stirs beside him, pulling away to look at him with a lazy smile, her eyes heavy with sleep, and he's still in awe of her, of how this beautiful, strong, sometimes crazy woman chose him, and he realizes just how truly and completely he feels what he was doodling on her arm. He's about to tell her when she presses a kiss to his cheek and untangles herself from him.

 

" _Yes_! We've got one of them out of bed!" Cora all but screams, raising her fisted arms in victory when she notices Lydia getting off the bed.

 

"It was either that or watch you dry-hump Isaac for another ten minutes," Lydia mumbles on her way to the bathroom and Stiles hears Scott snort and Allison laugh.

 

The three boys get up not long after that, and an hour later, all six of them find themselves in a clearing in the woods. 

 

"Isn't it dangerous to spend the day in the woods when Peter and Deucalion are still wandering around freely?" Isaac asks the question on everyone’s minds as they pile out of Stiles' Jeep.

 

"When has dangerous ever stopped us before?" Allison says as she moves to get some stuff out of the Jeep's trunk. "Besides, my dad and Derek are in the woods somewhere, setting up the last of their traps for tomorrow, so if anything goes awry, they'll be close by."

 

She's got a point. Besides, Stiles doesn't think either of them will do anything when there's daylight. They're too close to the edge of the forest, so anyone looking can see, and hikers often pass by this area.

 

Scott pulls out a large picnic basket out of the trunk, and Stiles picks up the cooler right next to it. There's also a blanket and some plastic kitchen utensils nearby, and the girls take care of those before Isaac closes the trunk. 

 

They went on a picnic on Lydia's last birthday. The one before was such a disaster that Lydia didn't want to celebrate at all the year after. But Stiles couldn't let her big day go by without some form of celebration, so he suggested the picnic to Allison. They had the best afternoon any of them could remember and Lydia wouldn't stop smiling. It even earned Stiles his first official cheek-kiss from Lydia. 

 

Naturally, Stiles doesn't actually remember any of this, but if he concentrates hard enough, he can remember the feel of Lydia's soft lips on his cheek. Of course, he could be confusing it with this morning, but the queasy feeling he gets in his stomach at the fleeting memory tells him the kiss he's remembering is more important than others. Not that any kiss from Lydia is not important, but it's the kind of queasiness you get when the girl of your dreams finally shows you some form of affection. When she finally acknowledges - publicly at that - that she might care about you a lot more than she lets on.

 

And anyway, even if Stiles can't really remember, this is why they're here right now. To create some new memories. Besides, Lydia might have given Stiles a cheek kiss the last time they were here, but right now they're sitting on forest floor leaning against a tree, and Lydia's so close to him, her hair loose around her shoulders, and she's wearing his red hoodie, and she's tucked under his arm with her hand on his knee, and he's not going to lie, this is so much better than before.

 

* * *

 

It turns out to be the best afternoon any of them has ever had, until it's not. 

 

Lydia's surprised to see Allison really did think of everything. The food's delicious - she got them takeout from their favorite diner - and Lydia doesn't know how Allison managed to get the fries to stay so crispy. There's even a couple packs of Reese's and extra blankets for when Lydia inevitably gets cold, which happens just as they're done with their food. Stiles picks up an extra blanket even before Lydia has a chance to ask for one, and he drapes it over both their laps. She smiles happily at him, before pecking his protruding pout and snuggling closer into him.

 

The afternoon's colder than the usual, but they sit around lazily when they're done with their food, Lydia and Stiles huddled together under their tree, Cora and Isaac sitting across from them on the floor, their fingers discreetly linked together between them. Allison and Scott are on the other side sitting close together, and the pecks Allison seems to give Scott every few minutes tell Lydia the girl has finally accepted that she will never move on from this boy, no matter how much she tries.

 

"The last time we were here, you fell from that tree right there," Isaac says suddenly, pointing at something to their right, and Stiles turns to see a tree with probably the biggest trunk he's ever seen.

 

"Me?"

 

"Don't sound so surprised," Scott says, raising his eyebrows. "Dude, you're like the clumsiest person I know. You've got no hand-eye-feet-ear-mouth coordination."

 

"Hey, I resent that!" Stiles protests, looking around for a friendly face, but Lydia can't help herself, and her usually sympathetic gaze has turned into an incredulous look. "I'm not that clumsy," he insists, his voice slowly turning down to a low squeak. 

 

"You fell on stage during our 4th grade talent show contest," Isaac shoots back.

 

"And literally every time you've snuck into my room since we were four," Scott picks up and Stiles opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out.

 

"You fell in class yesterday," Allison states matter-of-factly.

 

"And that time you found me in the woods naked," Lydia says, and he looks at her like he wants to feel betrayed, but she just mentioned being naked, and she knows more than she knows anything else that his mind has now travelled in an entirely different direction. 

 

"Wait, he found you in the woods, naked?" Cora asks, raising an eyebrow at them.

 

"Well," Lydia drawls in a teasing voice. "I actually found him, I think. But yes, I was naked as the day I was born."

 

She really needs to stop with the naked talk.

 

Cora lets out a laugh that cause them all to grin, but their happiness is cut short when they hear the sound of a twig snapping in the distance. Cora, Isaac and Scott all perk up, having probably heard it clearer than the rest, but Lydia knows she heard something too.

 

"It's not just in my head, this time, is it?" She asks.

 

"No," Stiles mutters, sitting a little straighter, his arm never leaving Lydia's shoulder, instead hugging her closer to him. "Even I hear that."

 

Lydia feels a sudden dread take over her, a crippling fear taking hold of her body. She knows it's him before she sees him.

 

"Well well well," Peter says in a smug voice, almost appearing out of nowhere. "Isn't this a sight to behold."

 

There's a three-second space where everything falls so silent that Lydia can only hear her friends' breathing, Stiles' in particular, and it's shallow and fast and she worries for a second that he might be having another panic attack. But he seems calm when she looks at him, calmer than she knows he actually feels, and the way he holds her a little tighter when they stand up makes her feel a little safer despite everything. 

 

It's the first time he's seeing Peter, she realizes. He's heard more about him than any person needs to, but this is the first time Derek's uncle has shown himself to Stiles since the accident. 

 

"What do you want?" Scott asks, and Lydia doesn't remember the last time she heard her friend sound so menacing. 

 

"No need to get testy," Peter says, almost mocking. He raises his eyebrows in such a way that makes Lydia want to punch him in the throat. "I'm just here to talk."

 

"Like you were just there to talk to Aiden?" Stiles retorts, surprising them all but not really, because despite everything, he's still the same Stiles as before, and mouthing off has always been his most enduring and endearing character trait.

 

"You had an accident that cost you your memory and you're still as foolishly brave as ever," Peter says, looking rather impressed, a creepy smile slowly shaping his face. "It's good to see you, Stiles." 

 

"Can't say the same about you," Stiles immediately answers back, and Lydia can't help but stand a little straighter. 

 

It's ridiculous because they're both human, about to potentially face a very non-human foe, but somehow, Stiles' confidence is rubbing off on her, and she starts to feel a little braver too. The feeling intensifies when she remembers the Chinese daggers strapped to her ankles and hidden under her boots, one on each side, the way Allison taught her. Daggers dipped in wolfsbane and mountain ash and mistletoe because you can never be too safe in Beacon Hills.

 

She's not the same Lydia as before. She's not the spoilt, scared girl who was controlled by a dead alpha anymore. She's not defenseless and easily manipulated. She's a strong, ridiculously smart, professionally trained woman with a pack behind her. She doesn't have to sit back and watch as her friends face off with the bad guys. She is standing on the front lines right beside them now. She doesn't run and hide from anything that scares her, and that's because of Stiles and Scott and Allison and every member of her pack. They've protected her too many times to count, and now it's time she pays them back.

 

"Cut to the chase, Peter," she finally lets out in a strong, sure voice, standing a little taller still, and Stiles' breath hitches for a split second when the former alpha turns to look at her with a glint in his eyes. 

 

"Still as impatient as ever, I see. I guess some things never change," Peter mumbles almost to himself, and he looks very tempted to roll his eyes, but he doesn't, instead turning to look at the pair and Lydia can almost hear the clocks ticking in his head. "But then again, some things do," he continues, looking at Stiles and Lydia's tangled bodies. "I guess all that pining paid off, Stiles." He stops for a second and Lydia wants nothing but to kick him in the balls so he'd stop talking because that is none of his business. Stiles tightens his grip on her and she feels the tears threatening to get to her, but she takes a deep breath and wills them not to fall. Stiles makes her strong. "Did you know that he begged me to kill him?" Peter says suddenly and Lydia feels the world stop and she can't look anywhere but at Peter. "It's true. He's the one who found you, back when I bit you. Not that schmuck Jackson. What a sorry excuse for a werewolf that one was. But not Stiles," he continues, looking from Lydia to Stiles. "Stiles was always the brave one. And instead of leaving you on the field like he should've, he begged me to spare your life, even at the cost of his own. Even at the cost of Scott and Derek's lives." He stops talking for a second and then his eyes meet Stiles and Lydia stops breathing even before Peter says a word. "I can still do it, you know. Turn you. The offer still stands. Or maybe I should just kill you and rid the pack of their pathetically weak, brave little human."

 

Lydia's a second away from hurdling herself at Peter, but Stiles' grip on her is too strong, and before she can do anything she hears an angry roar to her left. She turns to find Isaac half wolfed out, fangs and claws at the ready.

 

"Isaac," Scott warns in a low voice and Isaac immediately relaxes, his fangs retreating and his body slowly easing back into its human stance.

 

"Uncle Peter," Cora says slowly. "Why are you doing this?" 

 

She sounds like a lost little kid, and Lydia feels a sadness overcome her for a second because Cora's lost everyone in her family save for Derek and Peter, and one of them's busy killing people. 

 

Lydia can see Peter falter for a second when he turns to look at his niece. But then, a blink later, it's as if nothing's happened, and he's still the crazy power-hungry werewolf he is.

 

"You poor little thing," Peter drawls, taking two steps towards Cora, and Isaac's fangs immediately make an appearance again, and even Scott's warning can't stop Isaac this time. Not when Cora's involved. "You still think I'm your uncle? I haven't been your uncle in a really long time. Did you forget that your brother killed me? Or does Derek get a free pass for all the crap he pulls while I get all the blame for wanting back what's rightfully mine?" 

 

"What's rightfully yours?" Scott asks, successfully turning Peter's attention from Cora to himself. "You killed Laura Hale for your alpha status."

 

"Which is how you know I won't have a problem killing any of you to get my status back," Peter warns and Scott's wolf suddenly make an appearance.

 

"Now, now," Lydia hears another voice say, and she feels a sudden chill in her bones. "No need for violence, Peter," Deucalion continues, suddenly appearing out of nowhere to stand right by Peter. "We just want Scott. That's all we want. No need to kill everyone else."

 

"You just want to make him kill everyone else, you mean," Allison says, standing tall next to Scott. 

 

"You're very brave for someone so weaponless, Allison," Deucalion says in an almost mocking voice. "You would make a good werewolf. Maybe a little wild and unpredictable, but definitely strong. That is, if you don't kill yourself first like your mother did." 

 

Lydia knows what's gonna happen before it does. She knows it because she'd do the same if she had the power to grow fangs at will.

 

Scott doesn't hesitate. All it takes is Allison being threatened for him to finally let his wolf takeover.

 

Deucalion attacks Scott at the same time Peter attacks Isaac and Cora. Lydia feels her world crumble around her, but she has to remain strong. She pulls her arm away from Stiles' back only to take his hand in hers. He grips her tightly, before pulling her over to where Allison stands. 

 

"We have to do something," Allison whispers, panicking as they watch Scott and Deucalion tumble around the forest floor in front of them. "My bow's in the Jeep."

 

"My daggers are not," Lydia replies and her eyes finally meet Allison's. There's recognition there, and Lydia's happy to see there's also relief. Allison trusts her to use them. 

 

"What daggers?" Stiles asks suddenly, snapping both girls out of their exchange, and Lydia turns to look at his panicked face.

 

"You have to wait for them to still a little before you take aim, Lyds. You have to concentrate," Allison says to Lydia, completely ignoring Stiles. "Just like we practiced all those times. You can do it."

 

Lydia nods at Allison, trying to take strength from her best friend's blind faith in her, instead of letting it pressure her. 

 

"You can do anything you set your mind to," Stiles mumbles, his eyes trained on Lydia, and she can't help but turn all of her focus to him. "Literally anything, Lyds. Especially you. But please, please don't do anything stupid."

 

She wants to laugh and cry because this is the most anyone has believed in her and worried about her at the same time.

 

"I'm right here," she says instead, nodding before squeezing his hand, and she knows it's not the answer he's looking for, but he takes it anyway before gripping her hand tighter still. 

 

She turns her attention to Scott and Deucalion. Scott's in his usual defensive stance, trying to avoid getting hit instead of aiming to land blows. Deucalion's not exactly winning, but Scott could use some help.

 

Lydia pulls her hand out of Stiles' to slide it inside her boot. She pulls out the dagger strapped to her right angle, securing it in her hand, waiting for her opportunity. As if hearing her thought, Scott backs a few steps and turns to look at Stiles, Lydia and Allison, forcing Deucalion to turn his back to them. She lifts her dagger a little higher to make sure Scott sees it, and it takes a few seconds, but she thinks she sees recognition in his eyes. All he needs is to keep Deucalion in this position for a few more seconds.

 

Lydia tries to steady her beating heart, tries not to shake too much in her crouched position. She can feel Allison and Stiles' eyes on her, and somehow it terrifies and relaxes her at the same time.

 

"Deep breath," Allison whispers. "Focus on your target."

 

She knows she can hit Deucalion wherever she wants to if she's focused enough. She hasn't missed the bull's eye from any distance in over a month now. She knows that if the knife does hit Deucalion, the poison will slow him down enough for someone else to finish him off, but she doesn't think she can be the one to do it. So she doesn't aim for anything as lethal as the neck. She puts all of her focus on his right shoulder blade instead.

 

Scott can't stall any longer, she knows, so before she can think about it, she swings her arm back and throws the dagger with all her strength. It travels right where it's supposed to, only Deucalion jumps to attack Scott a split second before the dagger's supposed to hit him. The sharp weapon misses the body instead and swings forward to plant itself in a tree trunk nearby. 

 

"Damn it," she hears Stiles mutter next to her.

 

She's too busy feeling angry at herself to notice Allison jump out from their spot and run towards the Jeep until it's too late.

 

Peter does notice her though, and so does Isaac, and when the former Alpha moves to attack her, Isaac is right there in front of him, blocking his away, and earning a strong blow to the shoulder. 

 

"Isaac!" Cora yells, running towards him, but Peter's on him before she can do anything, scratching and clawing until Lydia's not sure Isaac is still breathing. "ISAAC! No! ISA- Please, don't hurt him, no-"

 

Lydia can feel herself get weaker the weaker Isaac gets, a scream slowly making its way to the surface. She feels tears pool in her eyes because the last thing she wants to do right now is scream. Not for Isaac. Never for Isaac.

 

Cora's hysterical yelling coupled with the sound of flesh being torn and Isaac's painful screams is enough to draw anyone's attention, and everyone turns to look at them even Scott and Deucalion.

 

"Please, don’t kill him! Uncle Peter, please," Cora begs, crying, her voice getting weaker as she crumples to the floor near them, and Allison's there to hold her together, and Lydia feels the tears on her cheeks and the scream on the tip of her tongue. "Please, Uncle Peter, _please_ don't kill him."

 

Scott's about to jump to Isaac's rescue when Peter suddenly stops and turns to look at Cora, bloody and sobbing on the floor right next to them, Allison's arms the only thing keeping her from breaking apart. Recognition flashes in his eyes, and Lydia can see for a second the person he was before her became a power hungry alpha. He turns to look at Isaac, a blow away from becoming a bloodied corpse, slack under Peter's weight. 

 

Peter looks at his niece once again, before pulling his claws away from the body beneath him, claws slick with glistening red blood and newly torn flesh. 

 

"Kill him," Deucalion says suddenly, anger evident in his voice.

 

"No," Cora lets out weakly, a sob escaping her throat. "Please-"

 

Lydia feels herself shaking, a sob escaping her own body, and she feels Stiles shake next to her. She grips his hand without really thinking about it, trying to calm them both down. 

 

"Don't do it, Peter," Scott says in a low voice, and Lydia looks at her Alpha, and he looks more broken than anyone has any right to.

 

"KILL HIM!" Deucalion shouts louder now, and Lydia flinches.

 

Peter looks at Deucalion for a second before turning to look at Cora, and Lydia can see it, the moment he makes a decision, because he's never looked as human as he looks in this second.

 

" _KILL HIM_ ," Deucalion roars, and it echoes through the woods, a shout so loud and angry and menacing that Lydia feels the ground shake beneath her feet. 

 

It doesn't sway Peter, though. He's already made up his mind. He takes one more look at Cora, and Lydia knows he can see his niece like he remembers her when she was seven years old, a little girl who needs her uncle. He stands up, straightening himself before moving away from Isaac.

 

He's barely taken two steps away from the body on the floor when Deucalion suddenly attacks him. His claws dig into the flesh on either side of Peter's scalp, and Lydia finally screams. 

 

* * *

 

It's the sounds that he'll never forget. 

 

Claws piercing through flesh and meat and veins, scraping against the hard, cold bone before piercing through and ultimately breaking it. 

 

Cora screaming at her uncle to stop from attacking Isaac, and then breaking down in sobs once Peter himself is descended upon by Deucalion, her hands carefully holding Isaac's face, delicately placing his bloody head in her lap, a mixture of blood and tears and sweat and dirt staining her beautiful features, a fallen goddess in a Greek tragedy.

 

Lydia wailing right beside him, her piercing scream echoing through the grim woods until every bird on every tree has fled for its life, and every critter has gone into its hole to hide from the beautifully terrifying sound. 

 

Stiles comes to his senses just as Lydia's voice halts suddenly, and he holds her up just as she's falling down, giving her he strength she needs to stay on her own two feet. 

 

"It's okay," he murmurs into her ear, running his shaky fingers through her hair and holding her up. "You're okay."

 

She doesn't say anything, only grips his arms stronger.

 

Before any of them knows that happening, Deucalion turns from Peter's corpse towards Scott, his features transformed into a terrifying, dark, monstrous face, the color of the deadest night. He's on Scott before any of them can warn him, and all they can do is stand on the sidelines and watch as the two of them tumble around in a fight for survival, and pray that their alpha makes it back to them.

 

Stiles feels his body weakening along with Scott's, a new wave of pain rippling through him with every blow Deucalion lands on his Alpha. He feels so helpless standing there, unable to do a thing, his best friend fighting what is easily the scariest creature he's ever seen.

 

They roll around for a few more seconds, until finally they land right in front of them, Deucalion on top, his hands tight around Scott's throat, his claws digging in the back of his head, trying to squeeze the life out of him, and Stiles feels so weak now, he knows it's slowly working.

 

He feels Lydia pull herself higher next to him, but he's too focused on Scott to really see what she's doing. 

That's what he'll tell himself afterward anyway, to keep the guilt from eating him alive. 

 

Before he realizes what happening, Lydia lets go of him, running towards the two fighting werewolves in front of her, dagger in hand. 

 

He sees it happen almost in slow motion, feels his heart stop beating, his lungs struggling for air, the world spinning around him at the million thoughts that cross through his mind in that moment. 

 

"LYDIA!" He finally screams, and his voice doesn't feel like his own.

 

Allison screams for Lydia at the same time he does, but it's too late, because she’s already on Deucalion's back, knife planted firmly in his right shoulder.

 

The painful roar the beast lets out is nothing next to the way his body spasms, and when he straightens up suddenly, he sends Lydia hurtling off his back and into the nearest tree, and Stiles feels his world fall apart around him, and he scrambles to get to her before she hits the ground.

 

"LYDIA!" He yells again, tripping on some roots, stumbling towards where she's laying motionless on the ground. 

 

He's right by her side the minute she stirs, and he feels a hand squeeze at his heart so tight, until he's sure the organ is going to explode.

 

"I'm okay," he hears her whisper as she pulls herself up, her strawberry blonde hair stained with red from where she hit her head, her lip split in half, covered in blood. 

 

He doesn't understand how anyone can hurt so much and still be alive, because he feels his insides on fire, a pain threatening to cripple him entirely, but the need to make sure she's okay is stronger. 

 

He holds her face in his, kneeling in front of her, his hands anywhere he can touch to make sure she's still in one piece. 

 

"Lyd- Lydia, you're bleeding, ther- Don't ever-" 

 

"I'm okay, Stiles. I'm fine, I promise. It doesn't hurt. I'm okay," she mumbles, her hands holding his face and mirroring his position, forcing his eyes to meet her, her fingers ghosting over his skin. " _I'm okay_."

 

"Why'd you do that, Lydia? That was so stupid," he rambles, his eyes never leaving hers. 

 

"I had to, I'm sorry," she whispers, tears falling down her face and landing on Stiles wrists. "He was killing Scott, I had to," she continues, shaking her head as more tears leak out of the corners of her eyes. 

 

"It's okay," he whispers, his hands on her cheek and her face and her hair because she's so real and right in front of him and she has to be okay. "You're okay, Lyds." 

 

She's looking at him like he's her anchor, and more than any other time before, she's his anchor too. He doesn't think about it when he captures her lips between his, doesn't plan it when he whispers 'I love you' between kisses, doesn't mean to when he holds on to her so tight he thinks it might bruise. 

 

It's Allison's piercing scream that causes him to pull away and look up in time to see Deucalion charging towards them, claws and fangs at the ready. 

 

It's by pure instinct that he shields Lydia's body with his own, trapping her between him and the tree. 

 

He feels pain, something sharp and pointing, piercing through his back, and he thinks he hears Derek's roar in the distance. It's funny that he can tell his pack's roars apart from others.

 

The last thing his sees before he gives into the darkness is Lydia, her frantic green eyes searching for his, her fingers reaching out for him.

 

The last thing he tastes is the blood staining his lips. 

 

The last thing he hears is the sound of Lydia's wail.

 

* * *

 

 

There's blood. So much of it. It's on her hands and on his face and in her hair and down his back. She doesn't think she's ever seen so much blood.

 

She doesn't know how they got to the hospital. Doesn't remember much aside from Stiles' face when Deucalion bit him, the pain visible in his eyes and the curve of his mouth, his lids fluttering a few times before finally giving into the excruciating pain.

 

She remembers herself screaming, trying to hold Stiles' body up, yelling for help because he couldn't die. 

 

Stiles is not allowed to die. None of them are. But Stiles especially. He can't leave her. Not now. Not ever. Except that he might be.

 

There are tears on her face, she knows, and dirt and blood. They managed to bandage the wound on her head, Melissa begging her to come with her for just five minutes to get the dirt cleaned out of it. That's how much time it took for them to take Stiles away from her and lock him up in a room where no one could see him until they gave them clearance. 

 

She's sitting on one of the beds in the emergency room, the one Melissa assigned her to when she wanted to check on her wounds. She notices Cora coming up to her, her face just as dirty and her hands just as bloody. But Cora's wounds have already healed. 

 

She moves to sit next to her wordlessly, pulling her closer. Lydia gives into her and rests her tired head on Cora's shoulder. 

 

"They're going to be okay," Cora whispers after a while.

 

"How's Isaac?" Lydia asks because she can't ask about Stiles yet.

 

"The cuts and scratches were nearly fatal, which is why he's taking a lot longer to heal, but he's healing," she says. "Peter-" she tries to continue but Lydia hears her choke up. "He- he stopped at exactly the right time," she finally manages to let out, her voice raw and shaky with grief. "Melissa will make sure Isaac is out before anyone notices that his wounds are not there anymore."

 

Lydia can't help but breathe a sigh of relief. She remembers the tightening in her chest when she thought Isaac was dying. The scream fighting to make its way to the top, almost scratching at her throat to make its way out. But Isaac's going to be okay. 

 

"Stiles is going to be okay too," Cora continues as if she heard her thoughts, and Lydia freezes at the mention of his name. She feels a fresh wave of tears threatening to fall, and she doesn't fight it.

 

"Is that what they said?" She whispers, her voice thick with tears. 

 

"It's what I'm saying," Cora says, and Lydia turns to meet her eyes. There's so much faith and conviction there that Lydia feels the certainty almost travel through her too, but then the harsh reality of things hits her.

 

"He got bit by an alpha, Cora," she says a little louder, her voice hard with anger. "He's either going to turn or he's going to die. And you know neither of these mean he's going to be okay."

 

"You got bit by the same alpha, Lyds. And you're neither a werewolf nor dead."

 

"I'm a banshee, Cora," Lydia says tiredly. "Stiles is not a supernatural creature."

 

"You don't know that," Cora argues. "He could be. Or he could be stronger than all of us combined. He could survive this thing."

 

"He _is_ stronger than all of us combined," Lydia murmurs sadly. 

 

She just wants to be next to him right now. It hurts so much.

 

Cora doesn't say anything after that. She just holds Lydia closer, rubbing her back in soothing motions. Allison joins them not long after, plopping down on Lydia's other side and taking her hand in hers. 

 

Lydia's never really resented being an only child. She really liked the attention it entailed and she had enough friends to last her a lifetime. It wasn't until she met Allison that she realized how much she'd been craving a sister. She felt it the first time they had lunch together, and the first time they went shopping together, and the first time Allison slept over, and the time Lydia called her crying because of Jackson and Allison ran out on her date with Scott to make sure she was okay, and the time she and Scott and Stiles took her out to the ice skating rink to get her mind off things. Ever since, she realized that a hole had been dug in her heart when she was a child, and Allison was slowly filling that space, spreading and stretching to close the gap all together.  And then Cora came along, and Lydia felt the hole in her heart grow smaller, so small. And now, sitting between the two girls on a hospital bed, tired and bruised and sticky with dirt, she's not sure the hole was ever there to begin with. 

 

Scott finds them after a little while to tell them Melissa's cleared one of the bathrooms so they can get cleaned up. He looks so, so tired, like a little kid carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, and Lydia realizes that's exactly what he is. But he's also so strong, and loyal, unfailingly so, and Lydia knows that if anything happens to Stiles, Scott won't make it, not really. She won't make it either. But she can't think like that. Stiles is going to be okay.

 

They follow him silently, Lydia holding on to Cora's hand like a lifeline, until they reach the bathroom where Melissa's waiting for them. She ushers them in, following them, and she helps them get cleaned up one by one, making sure their wounds are clean and well-bandaged, and Lydia can't really help it when she throws herself in Melissa's arms, and like the mother that she is, the latter doesn't question her actions, instead holding her close and whispering soothing words in her ears, about how Stiles will be okay, they all will be, and how the bad guys are gone now.

 

Everyone else is in the waiting room when they get there. The sheriff looks worse for wear, and Lydia feels her heart break when his sad eyes meet hers. She doesn't say anything, quietly moving towards him, and when he opens his arms, she doesn't hesitate before letting him hold her, seeking comfort in the person who loves Stiles the most in this world. 

 

She can't remember the last time her  own father held her like that, so she takes it all in, holding on to moments like these when she knows that no  matter what anyone says, she's got a real family. 

 

It all comes crumbling down around her when Stiles' doctor shows up a few minutes later. 

 

She doesn't hear half of what he says, but she does register words like "coma" and "bad shape" and it's enough to send her speeding out of the hospital like it's on fire.

 

She thinks she hears Scott calling for her, knows Allison runs after her, but neither is enough to stop her from pulling off her boots and running as fast as she can away from them.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... this is it. Only the epilogue left after this one! I promised you a much earlier update than the last time, and here I am keeping my promise. Sarah says she loved this one. If you don't like it, go yell at her, she beta'ed it. (If you yell at Sarah, I'll punch you in the throat). No, but I really hope you guys like it, and I don't know, I'm sorry if it's a big disappointment? I'll stop now.
> 
> The epilogue won't be up for at least two weeks because I'm traveling to London next week, so I won't have any time to write. But it's all planned, so as soon as I'm back, I'll work on it. I think it will be worth the wait :)

She doesn't stop running until she can't breathe anymore. Until her heart's beating so fast in her chest she worries it won't ever slow back to a human rhythm. Until she realizes that no matter how far she runs away from him, Stiles won't ever leave her thoughts. 

 

Her phone keeps buzzing in her pocket, but she ignores it. She almost falls over, her knees weak and buckling under the pressure, but she powers through, taking in huge gulps of air until her blurry vision has cleared again and the buzzing in her ears has muted down. 

 

She looks up to find herself on Stiles' street, and it's funny because she was planning on going home when she ran away from the hospital. She doesn't know whether to laugh or cry when she realizes that this is her home.

 

She stands outside the house on the street for about fifteen minutes before she moves, just staring at the home where her whole life changed. The house where she learned she has a family outside of her own, a real one with people who love her and care for her, not just because they have to or because she scares them. People who love her because she's stubborn and strong and vulnerable and sometimes downright mean. People who accept her for who she is and won't ever try to change her, but who have already transformed her into the best version of herself without even meaning to.

 

She can't think back to a time when they weren't in her life. She's not even sure such a time ever existed, because it feels like Allison's laugh and Scott's compassion and Cora's courage and Stiles' love have always been a part of her. 

 

She feels the cold night air on her face and she tugs Stiles' hoodie closer to her body. She starts moving towards the house, barefoot and shivering, and it takes her a while to finally get the key into its hole. 

 

She takes a deep breath before entering. The house is quiet and almost sad, and it smells like Stiles and the Sheriff, and her eyes water on their own accord, but she doesn't let herself cry. She's stronger than that and Stiles is not dead.

 

She wanders through the house for a little bit because she can't go into his room. Not yet. 

 

The kitchen looks clean, save for a few items on the island. There's a plate with a piece of bread on it and what she guesses is mayo. There's a pack of turkey and a bowl of rinsed lettuce next to the plate, and she thinks the Sheriff was making himself a sandwich when he got the terrible call. She tries to remember if she saw him eat at the hospital, but she knows he didn't, and Stiles would want his father fed. 

 

She pulls out her phone without really thinking about it. She has twelve missed calls, five texts, and three voice mails. She checks the texts to make sure there's nothing in there about Stiles' health, and when she doesn't find anything other than her pack's worried messages, she types up a new text.

 

_I'm okay. Don't come find me. Make sure the Sheriff eats something._

 

She hits the send button and hopes Scott does what she asked.

 

She moves around the kitchen to distract herself, closing the jar of mayonnaise before moving everything back to the fridge. She covers the plate with some foil paper before hiding it in the fridge too. 

 

She walks out of the kitchen and her legs carry her to the Sheriff's study, and she realizes she's only ever been here once. She didn't really take the time to look around back then, so she moves slowly around the small room, packed with police files and thick folders, a few choice books stacked on one of the shelves. There's a big map of Beacon Hills taped to one of the walls, littered with red and blue and green dots that make little sense to Lydia. She sits at the Sheriff's desk and she knows she probably shouldn't be here, but there's an inexplicable feeling of peace that she feels when she's in this room, so she doesn't move to go.

 

There's a small shelf with a few picture frames right next to the desk, and she takes her time to look at the photos. The first one's of the Sheriff and a woman she guesses is Stiles' mother. Stiles is sitting between them, a huge smile on his face, a gap right where one of his front teeth is supposed to be, the moles she's come to love so much visible on his face. He can't be more than six in the picture, and Lydia smiles at the thought of a carefree Stiles who doesn't walk around carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Claudia is beautiful, she realizes, with dark brown hair, brown eyes that look so much like Stiles', and a loving smile on her face. She doesn't understand how she misses this woman she's never met, but she wishes more than anything that she was here.

 

"I know you must miss him," she whispers, never taking her eyes off the picture. "But please, don't take him away. Not now."

 

She wipes away the stray tear before turning to look at the other pictures. There's one of Stiles and Scott in the Jeep, waving at the camera with big smiles on their faces. The one right next to it is of the two teens with the Sheriff and Melissa, and Lydia wonders when it is exactly that the Sheriff realized that Scott and Melissa were their family. Scott has shaggy hair and Stiles his buzz cut in both pictures, so they're at least a couple of years old, and judging from the relaxed postures and big smiles, she guesses they're pre-werewolf bite. Scott's lines have hardened since then, and Stiles looks wearier every day.

 

She doesn't expect the last picture to be there, mostly because she doesn't realize the pack is so important to the Sheriff. It's stupid when she thinks about it, because he cares so much about them, but she didn't think it would be enough to earn them a spot here. It is though, because the last one is the same picture Stiles has on his wall in his room, the one of them sitting around his living room, looking happier than any pack has any right to.

 

She remembers that night so clearly. It was about a week after they'd come back from that god-awful motel. They'd finally made sure Derek was alive and well, and despite Darachs and Alpha packs and werewolf problems, they'd decided to have a movie night to distract themselves and pretend they were still a bunch of normal teenagers. Derek didn't usually indulge them when they planned these things, but they'd left him no room for argument on that particular night, seeing as he was "the guest of honor", in Allison's own words. Lydia hadn't really thought about it when she'd plopped down on the floor next to Stiles. Or when she'd scooted closer to him in the middle of the second movie. Or when she'd finally rested her head on his shoulder and given in to slumber towards the end of the third one. She'd saved him from certain death only a week before, so her plans included never letting him out of her sight again.  And when she'd woken up in the middle of the night on the living room floor, her head on Stiles' chest, his arm securely around her, the other one holding her hand right by his heart, she didn't pull away, instead whispering a soft kiss to his palm before snuggling even closer to him and falling right back asleep. She'd gone back to hooking up with Aiden and pretending none of it happened the next day because it was so much easier to fool herself into thinking she did not care about Stiles the way that she did, and to blame her actions the previous night on her sleep-addled state.

 

She feels herself shiver at the memory, already missing Stiles so much more than she thought possible. She wipes the tears away and takes one last look at the picture before getting up and leaving the study. 

 

She doesn't really seem to think about it when she makes her way up the stairs and into his room. It's still the same way they left it this morning, a mess of blankets and pillows and clothes and research papers and it feels so much like home it hurts. She doesn't think about it either when she takes off her dirty clothes before pulling on a pair of black leggings and one of Stiles' shirts. 

 

She feels the events of the day finally weigh in on her, an overwhelming fatigue taking over her body. She finally makes her way over to Stiles' side of the bed - yes, they have sides now - and snuggles into the sheets, hugging Stiles' pillow and smothering herself with his blanket, and it almost feels like he's here if it weren't for the gaping hole in her heart. 

 

She falls asleep praying to any god that would listen for Stiles to be okay.

 

* * *

 

He's in the park. He doesn't remember how or why he came here, but he is, and he's walking towards the swing sets like a man with a purpose, so he doesn't question his being here any further, allowing his legs to carry him over to the other side of the park. 

 

He notices two figures sitting on the swings, their backs turned to him, much too old to be kids. He recognizes them immediately, two of the people he loves the most in this world. The girl with the long strawberry blonde hair and the most beautiful green eyes he's ever seen and the girl with the wild brown curls and warm smile. 

 

There's an air of sadness to them despite the fact that they're deep in conversation, Lydia in a soft blue dress that looks so familiar Stiles knows he's seen her wear it before, her brown boots discarded on the grass next to her, Allison's crossbow forgotten on the floor a few inches to her right. 

 

Grass. He can feel it too. He looks down at his own feet and he realizes he's barefoot too. He's in a pair of dark jeans and a grey shirt, his red hoodie keeping him warm. 

 

He doesn't understand why he has no shoes on, but he doesn't stop long enough to really think about it, instead walking closer to the two girls. 

 

He catches the end of Lydia's sentence, and it confuses him even more.

 

"... Scott can't seem to control himself ever since Stiles went missing, and I don't know how to help him."

 

She looks so sad and distressed and tired and he wants nothing but to go over to her and put his arms around her. But then her words register, and he feels a new form of dread take over his body.

 

"Missing?" He mutters in a low whisper, looking over at the two girls and moving even closer to them, so close now that he can run his fingers through Lydia's hair if he reaches out.

 

"Guys," he murmurs, "I'm right here."

 

Neither of them reacts to his words, almost as if they don't hear him, Allison reaching out to hold Lydia's hand.

 

"I don't know how to help him either, Lydia," she says, her eyes cast on the park in front of them. "But mostly I don't know how to help you," she continues, turning to look at Lydia again. "I miss Stiles too, but I'm watching you fade right in front of my eyes."

 

Stiles feels himself start to panic, the weight of the conversation dragging him down. 

 

"Lyds," he says a little louder, moving to stand right in their line of sight, but neither girl reacts to his presence. "I'm right here," he continues a little louder, his breathing getting heavier by the second.

 

"He's still out there, Allison. I can feel it, like he's so close but I just have to look closer. I need to find him, Allison," Lydia says sadly. "Not just for Scott. Or you, or Cora, or the Sheriff. For me too. For me the most."

 

"I'm right here!" He yells a little louder still, reaching out to touch Lydia's shoulder.

 

He was a little worried when he saw them sitting on the swings like two lost kids. He got even more nervous when he heard them talk about him like he wasn't there. He felt himself start to drown when they wouldn't talk back to him.

 

But it isn't until now, when his hand passes right through Lydia's shoulder, blending with it but never touching it, his fingers visible all the way on the other side, like he's touching nothing at all, like she doesn't really exist or he doesn't really exist, that he finally feels his world shatter around him, the fear that slowly started spreading when he found himself at the park finally consuming him entirely.

 

* * *

 

She wakes up to the sound of footsteps walking up the stairs. 

 

Ever since she's discovered her abilities and has decided to try and master them, she's been learning how to put her hypersensitive hearing to good use. And the first step is learning how to tell footsteps apart, starting with her pack's.

 

The heavy footfalls tell her that the person coming up the stairs is wearing combat boots, which usually means it's either Cora, Scott, or Isaac. Cora's footfalls are usually lithe and secure, while Isaac's are almost always irregular. Years of abuse from his asshole of a father have etched themselves in his posture and mannerisms, so much so that it feels like he's ready to run from something at any given moment. 

 

The steps climbing the stairs are neither, but rather slow and careful and a little forceful. 

 

Lydia pulls herself out of the bed before he reaches the room, sprinting to the bathroom and locking the door behind her just as the door to the bedroom opens.

 

It's not that she doesn't want to see Scott. She just needs a few minutes to herself before she can face him.

 

She takes her time washing the sleep off her face and brushing her teeth before she looks at her reflection in the mirror. She looks as tired as she feels, the bruises under her eyes purple and defined, so visible under the fluorescent light. She can't be bothered with concealer right now.

 

She takes a deep breath before she makes her way over to the door. She opens it slowly, quietly making her way out of the bathroom.

 

Scott's sitting on the edge of Stiles' bed, idly playing with Lydia's stuffed wolf - Yes, she brought it with her when she knew she'd be staying here for a while. 

 

He has that look on his face, the one that says he blames himself for everything that's happened, and Lydia hates herself for selfishly running away from the hospital, not stopping for a second to think about how he must be feeling. 

 

She makes her way over to him, carefully sitting next to him. He reaches out to take her hand in his and she has to stop and marvel at how such a tiny gesture can comfort her in the way it does. She wonders whether she feels that way because she's sitting with her alpha or because she's sitting with her friend. She thinks it's a little bit of both.

 

"Deaton says he won't become a werewolf," Scott speaks after a while. "He says the mountain ash that went through Deucalion's system when you stabbed him had already weakened him so much that his werewolf venom wouldn't serve its purpose."

 

"When you get bitten by a werewolf, you either get turned or you die." Her voice sounds foreign even to her own ears. Stiles can't die.

 

"Not Stiles," Scott says. "He's different. You'll see."

 

There's so much conviction in his voice, that she can't help but believe him.

 

"It's not your fault," she murmurs after a few minutes.

 

"It's not yours either," he reassures her immediately.

 

"It feels like it is," she admits, her eyes cast to the ground. 

 

One of Stiles' discarded t-shirts is on the floor right by her feet, and if she shuts her eyes tight enough, she can pretend Stiles just took it off before going to shower. If she thinks about it hard enough, she can hear the Sheriff's footsteps coming up the stairs to tell his son to pick up his clothes off the floor because _this is not a barn, damn it!_

 

"You saved us, Lydia," Scott says, squeezing her hand and turning to look at her. "You saved me. Deucalion was winning. You're the one who saved me."

 

"But he still went after me. Stiles got hurt because he was protecting me."

 

"Just like you got hurt because you were protecting me," Scott counters, a fierceness to him. "It's what we do, Lyds. We're a pack."

 

"I just don't know if I can deal with all of this again, Scott," Lydia admits, her voice shaking as she tries to keep the tears at bay. "What if he doesn't wake up?" She can actually feel herself slowly going insane at the thought of losing Stiles.

 

"He's already showing signs of improvement. He's been reacting to sounds around him, which means he can hear us."

 

"And what if he can't remember us?" She asks, her voice breaking a little. "What if he wakes up, and it's back to square one again?"

 

"Well then we go back to square one, Lydia!" Scott says, his voice a little louder and Lydia flinches. "We go back to the start, just like we did the last time, and we walk him through it." She can feel the anger Scott's feeling, and not just because of the tone of his voice. "What if he does wake up, though, and he remembers? What if he wakes up, and you're not there, Lydia? The person he cares about the most, the person he loves is not there?"

 

It's like a slap in the face, the reality of the situation. Stiles is in serious danger, and instead of being there for him, she's running away again.

 

"I know this pack thing is new to you, Lydia. It's new to all of us. I don't know much about it either. But I know that that gaping hole you feel in your heart right now, it grows smaller when you're around him. It won't completely heal ever, because our lives won't ever not be in danger. But we're a part of each other. Especially you and Stiles. And he's always been a part of me, but so are you, Lyds. And the pain I already feel because of what's happened to Stiles, it's twenty time worse because of the guilt you're carrying around. Because of the love you're trying so hard to bury. It's the same thing you felt when Isaac almost died at Peter's hand and Cora felt her heart break in half at was happening." He stops talking for a moment, the events of the day seemingly taking their toll on him. He sighs audibly and Lydia squeezes his hand. "We're all linked, Lydia," he continues after a moment. "And that connection is both our burden and our saving grace. That's why packs stick together. Not just because they're physically stronger like Derek said. But because it makes them emotionally whole. Just come back to us, Lyds. Stiles needs you. We need you."

 

She doesn't say anything for a few minutes, taking it all in, her sniffles the only proof that she's still alive. Scott's right. Of course he's right, he's almost always right. She really does feel better when she's around her pack, both physically and mentally. And she only feels complete when she's around Stiles. She knows without the shadow of a doubt that it's the same thing for him when she's around. So how is he supposed to get better and heal if a part of him's missing? 

 

She already misses him so much, more than she ever thought possible, and she needs to be strong for him.

 

She finally turns to look at Scott, her alpha and best friend and Stiles' brother in every way that matters, and she can't help herself from letting go of his hand and wrapping her arms around him. He returns the hug with just as much care, and she feels him press a kiss to her temple through the gauze. _Things are going to be okay._

 

She lets go of Scott before wiping the tears off her face and moving to pull on a pair of shoes. She can't be bothered to change or deal with heels right now, so she pulls on her old pair of converse and piles up her hair in a messy bun. She grabs Stiles' hoodie and offers her hand to Scott when she's ready. He gets up and takes it before they make their way out the house together.

 

Lydia feels herself almost choke up again when she sees Stiles' jeep parked outside the house, but she doesn't say anything as she and Scott climb into it, instead clinging to the familiarity of it for comfort.

 

The ride to the hospital is quiet, each of them lost in their own world. It isn't until they're driving by the park that Lydia feels the air suddenly leave her lungs, something beckoning her towards the playground.

 

"Stop the car," she whispers, and Scott turns to look at her, confusion clear on his face. "Stop the car, Scott," she repeats when he doesn't, her voice a little louder, her tone a little bit more commanding.

 

It works, and she's out of the car before Scott can even turn off the engine. She sprints towards the swing set, an invisible red string pulling her towards them. She can hear Scott yell for her in the distance, but her heart feels like it might jump out of her chest if she doesn't get there. Like she's running out of time.

 

The swings are bare when she gets there, and the sandbox and the slides and the monkey bars too. But that gaping hole in heart, the one that Scott was talking about earlier, it feels a little less painful, like someone's covered it with a thin blanket until they figure out how to close it altogether.

 

"Lydia?" She hears Scott ask behind her, but she doesn't turn to him, instead moving to pick up a small rock off the ground.

 

It's like someone or something's controlling her body, and she doesn't really know what she's doing, just that she needs to do it like her life depends on it. Like someone else's life depends on it. 

 

The small rock is sharp enough, and when Lydia moves to the monkey bars and starts carving up the letters on one of the bars, Scott moves closer to see what she's doing. It isn't until she hears Scott gasp behind her that she finally truly makes sense of the three words she wrote.

 

* * *

 

"Please, Lydia, I'm right here."

 

It's been this way for five, six, twenty hours. He's sitting on the floor in front of the two girls, the grass tickling the soles of his bare feet, his knees tucked close to his body. Allison and Lydia haven't moved off the swing set, not for food or water or sleep. They haven't talked either in a long time, not since Lydia told Allison that she doesn't think they'll ever find him. Stiles has been trying to get their attention ever since, but nothing works. 

 

It's funny because Stiles hasn't felt the need to move either. It's unhealthy, he knows, but his whole concern is Lydia, and wherever she goes, he goes.

 

He wonders where Scott is. Why he hasn't come to find them when it's been almost a day. In fact, nobody's been at the park aside from them since he got here.

 

He's tugging at the grass, quietly taking in his surroundings when he notices something glistening on the monkey bars where the sun hits the iron. Someone's carved something there, and Stiles feels an inexplicable urge to move towards the scribbles. His feet take him there before he can even think about it, something pulling him towards the bars. 

 

He thinks he imagines the words when he reads them, thinks it can't be possible, because why would his name be on the monkey bars. 

_Wake up, Stiles._

 

But then he looks around and it all makes senses. He moves slowly towards Lydia and Allison, like he might scare them if he makes too much noise. He kneels in front of them, close enough to see every freckle on Lydia's nose. Close enough to count the fingers on her right hand.

 

One...two...three...four...five...

 

_Six._

 

_Wake up, Stiles._

So he does.

 

* * *

 

It's been almost twelve hours since she's come back to the hospital. She's been curled up on the couch by Stiles' bed ever since. Melissa practically dragged her into the emergency wing to change up her gauze and later had to manhandle her to get some food in her, but even then, Lydia refused to leave Stiles' side. Scott ended up getting her a tray of hospital food. She nibbled on some pudding and soda, but that was all she could keep down in her worried state.

 

For the better part of the twelve hours, Sheriff Stilinski occupied the seat on the other side of Stiles' bed, but Melissa finally convinced him about an hour ago to go lie down with Scott in the room right next to Stiles', promising to wake them up the minute there's any development. She didn't even try to get Lydia to go with them, fully aware the girl would not budge if her life depended on it. 

 

Cora's with Isaac a few rooms down from theirs, dropping by every hour or so to check on Stiles. Lydia's been lazily sprawled on the sofa by the bed, talking to Stiles for the better part of the past hour, telling him about their day before he got bitten, about what everyone's been up to, about her plans for when he wakes up. She's telling him about her plan to get them all to go on a road trip to her uncle's beach house when one of the machines Stiles is hooked to starts beeping alarmingly fast. 

 

Lydia straightens up immediately, eyes frantic, ready to yell for help, but before she can do anything, Stiles' eyes suddenly open, and he's in a sitting position before she can even register what's going on. He hair is sticking up in all directions and he looks so pale, his moles that much darker under the fluorescent light. His eyes move frantically around the room, taking in his surroundings, before they finally catch hers.

 

Where there's usually warmth and love, there's now fear and confusion, much like the last time they were in this position, and Lydia feels a crushing sadness threaten to consume her, bracing herself for that small, confused, heartbreaking question. The one that will confirm her worst fears. _Who are you?_

Unlike the last time though, Lydia keeps quiet, holding her breath as she waits for her world to shatter around her.

 

The confusion turns into something akin to relief all of a sudden, Stiles' eyes softening as he takes her in, and Lydia feels her heart threaten to beat out of her chest. 

 

"Lydia," he murmurs and she looks up, barely able to understand what's happening."You're alive," he mutters frantically and Lydia has to strain her ears to hear what he's saying. "You're okay," he repeats, his eyes suddenly coming alive before he nearly jumps off the bed to get to her. 

 

She's off the couch and in his arms before she can even think about her actions, or about the fact that he just got out of a coma and he shouldn't be standing, or the fact that her head hurts so much. 

 

The only thing she can think about is Stiles and his arms around her and his hands in her hair and his lips on her shoulder and she feels the tears finally make their way down her face because he's alive and he's okay and he remembers her. 

 

"Your head," he mumbles pulling back and delicately placing his hands on the gauze crowning her head.

 

"I'm okay," she reassures him through the tears, a smile creeping onto her face as she looks at this boy she loves so much, who just came out of a coma and who's first thought is - as it's always been - her well-being. "I love you," she murmurs, but before she can do anything else, Melissa bursts into the room, followed closely by the Sheriff and Scott.

 

Lydia stands to the side watching as the Sheriff finally breaks down when he takes his son in his arms, both of them hanging on to each other like the other might disappear if they let go. 

 

Cora's in the room by the time Scott's hugging Stiles, and Melissa gives them a few more minutes before she cuts in to scoop Stiles in her arms, kissing his forehead over and over again, yelling at him for putting them though this, talking about how she'll be damned if she ever lets him out of her sight again. It takes her less than a second after that to revert back into nurse mode and order Stiles back into bed.

 

The doctor comes by a few minutes later and kicks them all out so he can run a quick check up to make sure everything's going smoothly, and Stiles presses a kiss to Lydia's hand before he finally lets go of her.

 

Allison, Chris, and Derek are already outside and Lydia wonders how fast they drove here. 

 

Melissa follows them out a few minutes later and Lydia's in her arms before she can stop herself.

 

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," she whispers repeatedly in the older woman's ear, a sense of relief and so much love for her taking over her. The way Melissa holds on to her, pressing kisses to her forehead every so often chokes her up because her own mother's never shown her this much affection and she misses her but it doesn't matter because Melissa's here now. Melissa will help her pull through. Always. 

 

She only lets go of her when she notices Isaac coming up to them in a hospital gown, dragging his IV stand with him - alpha wounds take longer to heal, she remembers. She moves over to him and embraces him, feeling guilty for not visiting him more often. 

 

"All that matters is that he's okay," he whispers before she has a chance to say anything and Lydia marvels at the bond they share once again. 

 

She doesn't say anything, just holds him a little tighter before she lets go.

 

The doctor comes out a little while later, urging them not to go in all at once. No one listens to him, naturally, and Lydia grins wide as Scott reaches out for her hand with a smile on his face before they make their way back into the room with the rest of their pack.

 

* * *

 

He remembers bits and pieces of it all. A perfect picnic turned not so perfect. Peter appearing out of nowhere. Peter hurting Isaac. Cora breaking down. Deucalion killing Peter. Deucalion attacking Scott. Lydia stabbing Deucalion. Lydia violently thrown against a tree. Lydia on the ground, unmoving. Lydia bleeding. A blinding pain in his side. Lydia's panicked eyes. Lydia, Lydia, Lydia. Lydia.

 

Deucalion's dead. At least that's what Scott tells him. Derek and Chris took care of him after Lydia landed the deadly blow. Or stab, in this particular case. 

 

Derek, Allison, and Chris, have gone home to get some rest, and Melissa finally got his dad and Scott to go too. Just to shower and squeeze in a few hours of sleep, cause they all need it. Lydia wouldn't budge, and the selfish side of him didn't want her to go. But Melissa made her swear to go home for a bit as soon as Scott and his dad come back, something that made him both sad and relieved. Cora wouldn't leave the hospital either, having taken residence by Isaac's bedside. He'll be released soon, so they'll both get to have some rest by tonight.

 

"You can't do anything like this again," Lydia whispers suddenly, snapping him out of his thoughts. She's curled up on the arm chair next to his bed, her eyes tired and bruised, his hand tucked in both of hers. "You can't put your life at risk again," she continues.

 

"You can't ask me that," he whispers back, his voice thick with sleep, the events of the day taking their toll on him.

 

"You almost died, Stiles," Lydia counters, her voice a little louder, and he feels the anger in her tone. "You almost died to save me," she repeats, her voice laden with guilt.

 

"I wasn't gonna let him hurt you," he answers simply, like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and it sort of is. There is no world in which he would let Lydia get hurt. Not as long as he's around.

 

"You got hurt!" She's shaking with fear and anger and worry and he hates that it's because of him. "Besides, you know he can't hurt me, Stiles. Werewolves can't kill or turn banshees."

 

"Didn't you get hurt too? Or are gauze headbands in style, now? Besides, we don't know you can't die for sure, Lyds," he tries to reason with her. "You read that somewhere, but we don't know for sure."

 

"But we do know that werewolf bites will either turn or kill a human."

 

"I'm not dead, am I?" He asks. "Or a werewolf. So I guess we can't believe everything we know."

 

"It could've been worse, Stiles," Lydia says, a sadness taking over her, worry evident in her voice, and Stiles squeezes her hand tighter.

 

"Come here," he whispers when her eyes meet his, tugging on her hand, and she starts shaking her head.

 

"You're hurt," she argues, but he can feel her already eager to join him on the bed.

 

"Not on this side," he states, gesturing to his good side.

 

"But-"

 

"Please, Lyds."

 

She smiles sadly before getting up and going around the bed to the other side. 

 

He adjusts himself on the bed, making some room for her. 

 

She climbs in slowly, delicately, like she might wake a sleeping beast if she isn't especially quiet, and he can't help but smile when she snuggles into him, resting her head on his chest, his arm securely around her. He presses a kiss to her forehead and holds her tighter.

 

"I dreamt of you, you know," he tells her in a low voice like it's their secret. "When I was asleep. I saw you and Allison. You were talking about me like I wasn't there. Like I was gone," he continues, a sadness washing over him all of a sudden.

 

"But you're not gone," Lydia says, moving her hand to stroke his cheek like she's making sure he's still there.

 

"I'm not, but you thought I was," he continues, trying to remember the dream. "And I kept trying to get your attention, but you wouldn't see me no matter how much I tried."

 

"Where were we?" She asks, her fingers drawing random patterns on his chest, and it feels so impossibly good to have her in his arms like that.

 

"In the park. You were sitting on the swings." 

 

She pulls back to look at him all of a sudden, her eyes wide as saucers, and Stiles feels his heart hammer in his chest.

 

"What? What's wrong?" He asks hurriedly.

 

"In the park, we were in the park?" She asks instead of answering his question.

 

"Yes," he answers, exasperated. "What?" He asks again.

 

"How did you wake up?"  

 

This whole answering with questions thing is starting to get on his nerves.

 

"Lydia, will you just tell me wha-"

 

"How did you wake up, Stiles?" She asks again and he's really starting to get aggravated.

 

"Someone wrote 'wake up, Stiles' and I knew it was a dream," he answers. "Why?"

 

"I wrote it," she says and he feels himself stop breathing.

 

"What?" 

 

"On our way to the hospital, we drove by the park and I felt something pull me there," she explains, trying to calm herself. "I told Scott to stop the car, and before I knew it, I was carving the words on the monkey bar."

 

"I didn't tell you it was on the monkey bar," Stiles says, trying to register this new information, just realizing the true impact of the bond he and Lydia share.

 

She doesn't say anything, instead looking at him with a mixture of pride and weariness. He moves his hand to her cheek and she leans into his touch without thinking about it.

 

"You brought me back."

 

The realization washes over them both like a tidal wave, and he doesn't miss the careful smile that takes over Lydia's features. It's like she wants to be happy that she did that, but the at the same time the true weight of such an act is so overwhelming, she doesn't know how to feel.

 

"I guess Deaton wasn't kidding about that anchor thing," she finally whispers and Stiles smiles at her.

 

"I'm sorry if this makes you uncomfortable," he mutters sensing her unease.

 

"No, no, no," she interrupts hurriedly, shaking her head. "It doesn't make me uncomfortable. It just makes me worry that I might fail to bring you back one day."

 

She lowers her head, and Stiles tucks his finger under her chin, forcing her to look at him.

 

"You can't think like that, Lyds. You've brought me back every single time. And you're smart. You're so smart it's scary sometimes, and brave and strong, and half the time you're the only one who knows what's going on."

 

"I have all these voices whispering in my head, and I don't know what they want," she argues, shaking her head and trying to lower her gaze again but Stiles doesn't let her. "I can't ev-"

 

"You saved us, Lydia. You saved Scott. Deucalion was killing him, and you were the only one brave - and stupid - enough to do something about it, and you saved him. And you brought me back. So stop doubting yourself. We'll figure out the rest of it in time."

 

"We?"

 

"I love you too much to let you do it alone," he whispers, and he feels himself heat up. 

 

"You love me?" She asks, her cheeks on fire and a smile taking over her face.

 

"I thought I told you that already."

 

He moves his hand from her cheek to her hair back and forth, fiddling with the strands and stroking the delicate skin. She moves her own fingers to his face, her thumb at the corner of his mouth.

 

"Yeah, but it was in the middle of a life-and-death situation and I thought it was a heat of the moment thing," she says, and Stiles marvels at all those insecurities Lydia hides behind her tough girl facade.

 

"We're not in a life-and-death situation right now, are we?" 

 

She shakes her head, her eyes finally settling on his.

 

"I love you," he whispers again and she smiles wider before capturing his lips with hers. 

 

The kiss is slow and sure, and the way her lips fit with his does weird things to his body, but he can't think about those right now. Instead, he focuses on the curve of her nose against his cheek, and the feel of her fingers fiddling with the small hairs in the back of his neck, and the way she kisses him like he's hers forever. And when he thinks about it, even though he doesn't really remember, he's always been hers forever.

 

"You're plenty sentimental when you want to be," she teases as she pulls away.

 

"Shut up," he counters, feeling himself heat up even more.

 

"No, it's nice," she says, moving her head back to his chest and holding on to him a little tighter. "I love it."

 

He hides his smile in her hair, holding on to her with no intention of ever letting go.

 

* * *

 

It's almost five hours later when Scott and the Sheriff come back to find them both asleep on Stiles' bed.

 

Melissa wakes them up gently, like only a mother could. She needs to get some real rest and Stiles can't be asleep for long periods of time, not yet. Not having just come out of a coma. 

 

She gets up reluctantly, promising to be back soon, and Stiles kisses her hand one last time before she leaves. The butterflies are rioting in her stomach at the man she loves so much, and she doesn't remember ever feeling so good.

 

Sheriff Stilinski gives her a quick hug on her way out, whispering a thank you in her ear, and she holds on a little tighter to the man who's become her second father. She shares one last look with Scott before making her way out of the room.

 

Melissa pulls her into a side room as soon as she's out, to clean up her wound and change her gauze one last time. 

 

"You need some rest too," Lydia tells Melissa when she's finished working on her head.

 

"I'm fine," Melissa says, smiling before getting up.

 

"No you're not," Lydia argues. "You haven't slept in over a day, and you need as much rest as any of us."

 

"Don't worry about me, Lydia."

 

"Melissa you're our pack mom," Lydia says.

 

"Pack mom?" Melissa asks, an amused smile on her face.

 

"Pack mom," Lydia insists, nodding her head. "Which is no less important than an actual mom. In fact, I'm pretty sure it's more important. It feels this way to me anyway," Lydia continues, her voice barely above a whisper. "You take care of us and you make sure we're okay and you're always there when we need you. And you make awesome food."

 

Melissa smiles but doesn't say anything, kissing Lydia's hair instead. 

 

"My shift's up in an hour, so I'll go home then."

 

Lydia sighs, but she takes what she can get.

 

"Promise?" She asks.

 

"Promise," Melissa reassures. "This pack mom has got to sleep if she wants to take care of her cubs."

 

Lydia smiles widely before making her way out of her room.

 

Cora and Isaac are waiting for her outside the room, their hands clasped together, Isaac looking healthier than ever, and Lydia smiles at them before giving Isaac a kiss across the cheek.

 

"I'm glad you're okay," she whispers and he smiles at her.

 

"Allison's outside waiting for us," Cora says, putting her arm around Lydia's shoulder as soon as she's close enough, and Lydia smiles wider. She leans her head on the young werewolf's shoulder as they make their way out, the smile permanently etched on her face.


	12. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it feels like a lifetime ago

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is it. For real this time. I can't believe this story is actually over. It took me so so long to finish, and I'm so sorry if I've kept you guys waiting, but also, if you've stuck with me since the beginning, thank you so much <3 I don't know if I'll be jumping into another multi-chaptered fic anytime soon, but I'm definitely planning some more one shots when I'm done with my exams. 
> 
> I'm not sure whether or not epilogues are supposed to be short, but if they are, then I've failed miserably. I really hope you like this anyway. It could work as a standalone oneshot tbh, but this is the ending I planned from the very first day so I hope it's up to your liking. As always, a huge thank you to my beta/light-of-my-life/biggest-asshole-I-know/soulmate Sarah.
> 
> Anyway, I'll stop dragging now. I really hope you guys like it!
> 
> Oh, wait. One more thing. If your name's Bartholomew, I'm sorry.

"Stiles, I swear to god if you don't get your ass to the hospital right now, you are sleeping on the couch tonight!" Lydia scream-whispers into her phone trying not to scare the other six people in the waiting room - and failing. "Melissa has been in labor for the past six hours, and neither you nor Scott have shown up, and I don't know what the hell your excuse for not being here or answering your phone is, but if it's anything less than a heart attack, I am going to kill you." 

 

She stops to sigh in frustration, her messy hair piled on top of her head. She ran out of the house like it was on fire when she got the call at five in the morning, having been asleep in last night's clothes only for a few hours. She didn't even stop to look in the mirror, which she probably should've, seeing as Allison's bachelorette was the night before and things went a little more out of hand than they thought they would. Turns out they all really, really, really needed a night out, and Lydia stopped counting the shots after her sixth. She feels her stomach revolt at the thought of alcohol, her nose crinkling up in disgust, but she manages to keep down the nachos they munched on at two in the morning with great difficulty. 

 

"Don't forget that you need to pick up your sister from Mr. Argent's place in thirty minutes, so you better not keep Skye waiting, Stiles!" She groans into her phone again, her frustration reaching new heights. "Ughh, call me when you get this."

 

She hangs up the phone before taking a seat and resting her head back against the wall. It feels like there's an out-of-tune orchestra banging against her temple and she's half-tempted to hit her head against the wall and just be done with it. 

 

She's been feeling like this ever since she woke up, the hangover crippling her almost entirely. The only good thing is that she somehow thankfully managed to keep it all down. Allison wasn't so lucky. She's been in and out of the bathroom every fifteen minutes for the past three hours, throwing up every chance she gets. Cora's with her right now, probably holding her hair back. Lydia feels like a shitty friend for not being in there with them, but she's too hungover to handle it. Besides, Cora didn't have a drink the night before, her tiny baby bump the only explanation needed, so she's more fit to deal with hungover brides-to-be than Lydia is right now. 

 

Lydia can't stop the smile that creeps upon her face when she thinks about her two best friends, one of them getting married in less than a month, the other pregnant with her first child.

 

It took Allison and Scott a while to get it together, having to deal with a ton of hurdles from going to separate universities to finding a rhythm that would allow them both to still be a werewolf hunter and the Alpha of a pack, but they finally did and Scott proposed to her on her graduation day, almost two years ago. They waited for him to finish his own university (he missed a couple of semesters due to some unforeseen werewolf problems, but he eventually went back and got his degree) before they started planning the wedding. Chris wasn't too fond of the idea until he realized his daughter couldn't do any better.

 

Cora and Isaac, on the other hand, never looked back after that day on the Lacrosse field. They've been together ever since, having moved in together right after high school to Derek's complete displeasure. Lydia's actually surprised they managed to keep from getting pregnant until now seeing as they went at it any chance they got on any surface imaginable. But they're happy and more in love than ever, and Lydia knows that their kid couldn't be luckier. The kid will be spoiled to death, with a whole pack at their service. 

 

"Okay, I have a question," Lydia hears Allison's voice snap her out of her thoughts and she looks up to see her best friend coming towards her, Cora right by her side. "Did I imagine it, or were Danny and Ethan giving us lap dances at one point?"

 

Lydia's eyes widen before she gets flashes of them with the two boys grinding on some dance floor.

 

"That would be correct," Cora answers.

 

"Were we at the Jungle?" Lydia asks, confusing shaping her face and she tries to put bits and pieces of the night before together.

 

"Correct again," Cora continues. "Funnily enough, that's where we ran into your fiancé, Allison."

 

"Weren't Stiles and Isaac with him though?"

 

"Yes they were, and Derek too, looking rather less than impressed," Cora explains. "Apparently, the supposed strippers Scott's old roommate hired turned out to be hookers, and the boys decided the best idea was to leave them to head over to a gay club. Don't ask me to explain, because I can't."

 

Lydia bristles at the thought of another girl throwing herself at Stiles. She isn't a particularly jealous person, but she kind of wants to gauge the eyeballs of any girl who so much as looks at Stiles. It doesn't help that he's completely clueless as to his hotness level, and ridiculously blind to any girl who tries to hit on him. It's probably because he's never had eyes for anyone other than Lydia, but she isn't about to take any chances, especially not after that whole Malia debacle. Lydia was devastated enough to be going to a different university than Stiles, but when she learned that this girl basically followed him into the communal shower and tried to get him to "join" her, Lydia had to do something about it. So like any normal girlfriend would, Lydia flew for six hours to visit Stiles and stayed with him for the entire week, until she was sure that the girl had gotten the message loud and clear. Sometimes so loud that the entire floor got the message too, but it wasn't really Lydia's fault if Stiles knew exactly how to make her scream. Of course, she was less than thrilled when less than a month later, Stiles showed up with the girl on Lydia's doorstep because she was a mythical creature of the night too. But she made sure Malia was fully aware that Lydia's figurative claws were sharper than any real ones would ever be. They took her over to Scott and he taught her a thing or two about controlling her urges, but she was too wild and unpredictable to really settle in with the pack, and eventually she took off. Cora was even less enamored with her than Lydia was, so she was especially happy when Malia packed her bags and moved out of their lives.

 

That was almost six years ago. A lot's happened since then. Like the Sheriff and Melissa finally making it official. And having a baby together. And getting pregnant again.

 

Lydia can't help the smile that creeps up her face when she thinks of Skye. That little girl just kicked her way out of Melissa's belly and into their hearts, almost pushing everyone out of the way completely and taking a permanent residence there. Lydia never thought she would care so much about a kid that wasn't hers, but she also hadn't thought about what would happen when Melissa and the sheriff had a kid together. A little baby that's both a little bit of Scott and a little bit of Stiles, a girl who won over their collective hearts the day she opened her big brown eyes and looked at them like she'd known them forever.

 

It was that much harder for them to leave Beacon Hills and go back to college after that. And it was even harder the years after, when Skye actually starting recognizing them. 

 

She remembers the way Skye's face would light up and she would automatically outstretch her tiny chubby arms to reach for Stiles whenever he walked into the room. Or the way she giggled whenever Scott tickled her mercilessly. Or the way she held on to both Lydia and Allison's hands when they took her to the park. Or the way she'd run over to Isaac and hug his leg as soon as he walked into the house. She even managed to break down Derek's barrier, using him as pillow more often than not. He pretends he hates it, but Lydia's seen the way he kisses her hair when he thinks no one's looking, or the way he holds her a little tighter when someone who's not pack is nearby.

 

"Okay wait, but why were we at the Jungle?" Allison asks, pulling Lydia out of her thoughts once again.

 

"You wanted to see 'enough guys to last you a lifetime' - that's a direct quote, by the way - and so Lydia thought that the that would be the ideal place to go. Ethan and Danny ended up stripping for us, and I'm not sure we enjoyed it as much as the guys did."

 

"Well, Scott always had a thing for Danny's glistening chest," Allison murmurs, rubbing her temple.

 

"Oh my god," Lydia snorts before she lets out a giggle and Cora and Allison join her after a second. 

 

"Any news on Melissa?" Cora asks.

 

"She's not fully dilated yet," Lydia explains.

 

"What about the boys?" Cora says just as Lydia's phone buzzes.

 

"They're not dilated either," Allison says, rolling her eyes and Cora lets out a surprised snort.

 

"Speak of the devil," Lydia mutters when she sees Stiles's goofy face on her screen. "You better be dying or dead," she answers, holding the phone to her ear.

 

"Fortunately I am neither of those things, but I do have Skye and Scott and we are on our way to the hospital," Stiles says hurriedly and Lydia feels relief flood through her when she hears his voice.

 

"I don't believe you."

 

"Skye, tell Lydia where we're going," she hears Stiles say after a few seconds.

 

"I got mom flowers and dad Mr. Snuffles so he wouldn't feel scared anymore," Lydia hears Skye say into the phone and she feels her heart swell at the little girl she loves so much.

 

"Hold on to those tight, baby girl, and make sure to make as much noise as you want in the car and yell as loud as you can until you get here."

 

"But Scotty said his head hurt so I can't talk very loud," Skye answers innocently and Lydia's tempted to reach through the phone and just hug her already.

 

"He doesn't know what's best for him, Skye. Yell as loud as you can, Scott and Stiles will feel so much better."

 

* * *

 

"Stiles..."

 

"Stiiiiles, are you okay? Wake up, wake up."

 

"Stiles, it's Skye, don't you wanna play with me?" 

 

That last one's the one that does it. Stiles finally opens his eyes to find himself lying in a room that's not his own, Skye straddling him, her tiny hands carefully patting at his face.

 

"Morning baby girl," he manages to get out, smiling slightly, and his voice is so thick with sleep he almost doesn't recognize it as his own. 

 

His head feels heavy, too heavy, and the buzzing in his ears is nearly crippling. 

 

"Good morning," Skye says in her cheery voice and Stiles can't help but smile at his little sister, even when the urge to wince at her loud voice is somewhat overwhelming.

 

He's always loved kids, even when he was one himself, but he never imagined how much he craved having a little sibling to take care of, and he definitely never imagined loving said sibling so much. He would do anything for this little girl. Literally anything.

 

"Where are we?" Stiles asks, looking around the room that looks so familiar yet somehow so foreign at the same time, like he hasn't been here in a long time.

 

"Ally's room," Skye answers happily at the same time Stiles catches sight of the photo frame on the bedside table with Lydia and Allison's picture in it. 

 

That explains it. The last time he slept in this room was over two years ago. 

 

"What time did we get here?" Stiles asks, groaning as he straightens up, Skye settled on his lap like she weighs nothing.

 

"I don't know," Skye says, pouting slightly and patting at Stiles' hair affectionately, the way she always does. "You were here when daddy dropped me off this morning."

 

"Wait..." Stiles mutters finally starting to realize something weird's going on. "Why are you here, Skyebear? And where's Scott?"

 

"Daddy dropped me off this morning because he and mommy are going to take the baby out of mommy's belly," she explains to him with a concentrated look, like she's trying to remember exactly what she was told. "And Scotty's been in the bathroom for a really long time. I think his tummy hurts." 

 

"WHAT?" Stiles straightens up, finally registering everything, reaching out for his phone immediately. He has eight missed messages and six voicemails. His first message, at seven in the morning is from Lydia.

 

_Been trying to reach you for the past hour. Get your ass to the hospital, Melissa's in labor. You also need to pick Skye up from Mr. Argent's at noon._

 

**8:15**  - _Where are you?_

 

**9:02** \- _Stilinski, get your ass to the hospital right now._

 

**9:34** \- _Stiles, I swear to god, if you're not here in the next twenty seconds, we are over._

 

**_9:35_ ** _\- And bring coffee. Alot of it._

 

"Oh fuck," Stiles mutters under his breath throwing away his phone, not bothering to read the rest of the messages.

 

"You said the f-word!" Skye exclaims, her eyes wide as saucers, pointing at him with one hand and hiding her mouth behind the other. 

 

"Stiles, you know you're not supposed to say the f-word," Scott mumbles, walking into the room looking like death. 

 

"Melissa's in labor," Stiles says, moving to get out of bed.

 

"Oh fuck," Scott sobers up, his eyes bulging out of his head.

 

"You said the f-word too!" Skye exclaims giddily, moving off her brother's lap to allow him to get up. 

 

"What time is it? And why are we here?" Stiles asks as he pulls his shirt over his head.

 

"11:45am, and you came here at 4am because Scott here wanted to tell me how lucky he was that he was marrying my daughter, and you geniuses thought it was a good idea," Chris explains, coming into the room, his tone somewhere between frustrated and bored. "The rest of your party is passed out in my guest room."

 

"Oh shit," Scott says, wincing immediately because this is not something he should say in front of his future father-in-law or his baby sister. "Crap- fu- ughhh," he finally groans in frustration as he tries to pull his pants up and Stiles can't help but snort at his antics. "I hope you're still going to let me marry your daughter anyway," Scott says semi-seriously, looking hopefully at Mr. Argent.

 

"We'll see about that," Chris says amusedly, enjoying the mortified look on Scott's face far too much. "Come on, Skye, let's make sure you've packed up all your toys," he switches to loving parent mode in a split second, holding his hand out for the toddler. 

 

"Yes and I need to pack Mr. Snuffles for daddy and the flowers I picked for mommy so that they let me see the new baby," Skye says excitedly, jumping off the bed and hurrying to take Chris' hand and walk out with him.

 

"Smooth, dude," Stiles mutters as he walks into the bathroom, barely able to hide his smile. He opens the cabinet where they used to keep the spare toothbrushes they left here for when they slept over. He's almost tempted to laugh when he finds them still there. Red for Allison, blue for Scott, yellow for Lydia, and green for him. He picks up the toothbrush and squirts some toothpaste on it before shoving the thing in his mouth.

 

"Shut up," he hears Scott say as he follows him in and picks his own toothbrush from the cabinet.

 

"No, I'm just saying, this is how you win over your father-in-law," Stiles spurts, mouth full of toothpaste foam, looking at Scott in the mirror and nodding exaggeratedly.

 

"Speaking of which, have you asked Lydia yet?" Scott asks a few minutes later, after the both of them have rinsed their mouths and moved back to the bedroom to pull their shoes on.

 

"I don't know if I should go for over-the-top or understated," Stiles groans in frustration. "Asking the girl you love to marry you should not be so stress-inducing."

 

"Exactly," Scott agrees. "So go with your gut."

 

"My gut says understated."

 

"So does mine," Scott says, smiling. "Besides, it's not like she's ever gonna say no."

 

"How do you know?" Stiles asks, getting up and moving to grab his jacket before following Scott out of the room. 

 

"You do realize that this is the same girl who nearly got herself killed to save you from a crazed alpha, threatened a were-coyote because she thought she was getting too close to you, and turned down Jackson all three times he came back to Beacon Hills, right?" Scott asks incredulously, raising his eyebrows.

 

"She could still say no," Stiles mutters.

 

"And I'm not a werewolf," Scott deadpans as they make it down the stairs.

 

"I'm ready!" Skye yells as she comes hurdling towards them, purple backpack securely in place, raising her arms when she's in front of Stiles. 

 

"Not so loud, Skyebear," Scott says, wincing at his sister's voice.

 

"Wow, you're getting heavy," Stiles teases Skye as he pulls her up and props her up on his waist.

 

She rests her hands on his shoulders, smiling adoringly at her older brother.

 

"No I'm not," she argues patting Stiles' hair. "Mom says I am the perfect weight for my age."

 

"And she's right," Chris agrees, coming up to them and handing each of them a fresh cup of coffee and Scott a bouquet of hand-picked flowers, probably Skye's.

 

"You are a god," Stiles mutters before taking a huge gulp out of his cup.

 

"Seriously, best father-in-law award goes to you," Scott says, taking a swallow out of his own cup.

 

"And you better remember it," Chris orders, pointing at Scott, and if Stiles wasn't so busy making farting noises and weird faces at his sister, he would probably laugh at Scott's terrified face.  

 

As it just so happens, Stiles hasn't properly seen Skye since he got here three days ago, and he missed her more than he can believe. Add to that the enormous giggle she just let out and the overly affectionate hug she just gave him that make it so he can't focus on anything other than making sure he doesn't trip on anything and returning his sister's hug. He only lets go of her to get her in the car, jumping in the backseat with her, and Scott gets into the driver's seat without asking any questions, throwing the flowers on the seat next to him and securing both his and Stiles' coffee in the cup holders. 

 

Skye scoots very close to Stiles as soon as he's in the car, snuggling under his arm and resting her tiny converse-clad feet on his knee. He looks down at her and smiles before pretending to attack her. She lets out a high-pitched giggle at which Scott groans, before ducking her head to escape Stiles' teeth. As the sheriff's son, he should probably let go of his sister and tuck her into her seatbelt, but he's never really cared for things he's supposed to do, and she looks far too happy right now tapping at his cheeks while he blows raspberries at her for him to let her go.

 

Scott's just turned on the ignition when Stiles pulls out his phone to call Lydia. 

 

"Are you calling Lydia? Because I wanna talk to her, please, please, please, pretty please?" Skye asks excitedly as soon as she sees Stiles dialing.

 

"Skye, we're gonna see her in less than ten minutes."

 

"I knooow, but I wanna talk to her in the phone."

 

"Alright, okay, you will talk to her," he replies, trying to calm her down. "And it's on the phone."

 

"I wanna talk to her on the phone," she repeats after him, her eyes pleading, and he can't help but kiss her hair.

 

"Just let me talk to her first."

 

"Alright," she says, deflating a little, and she looks so much like Scott with her frustrated pout.

 

Everyone keeps insisting that she looks like Stiles with her upturned nose and big brown eyes, but Stiles can't see it. The only thing he can focus on is her unruly dark curls, so much like Melissa, and her pout, so much like Scott. She's got their coloring too, her tan skin a stark contrast to Stiles' own pale color, and he thinks he loves her so much more for it. His sister's going to break alot of hearts someday and he and Scott will be wolfing out on any boy - or girl, because really, she can choose to be whatever she wants to be - who so much as looks at her. And yes, he will be wolfing out too, because when it comes to Skye, he's twenty times more viciously protective of her than he is of anyone else. Except maybe Lydia. 

 

The only thing that he will proudly admit Skye got from him are her street smarts. Even at four years old, the girl can manipulate any situation to her favor.

 

He snaps out of it when he hears the dial tone on the other end of the line, and before he has time to register anything, Lydia's already answered.

 

"You better be dying or dead," she greets him with, and despite the less than warm welcome, Stiles feels his heart skip a beat at the sound of her voice. Even after all these years.

 

"Fortunately I am neither of those things, but I do have Skye and Scott and we are on our way to the hospital," he replies, going for the most reassuring voice he can muster.

 

"I don't believe you."

 

She sounds like she's pouting and he misses her.

 

"Skye, tell Lydia where we're going," he says, handing the phone to his little sister who looks like he just handed her a million bucks.

 

"I got mom flowers and dad Mr. Snuffles so he wouldn't feel scared anymore," she says as soon as the phone's with her, completely blowing Stiles off, and he's tempted to laugh.

 

She listens carefully to what Lydia's saying on the other line, a giddy sort of look lighting up her face.

 

"But Scotty said his head hurts so I can't talk very loud," Skye answers and Stiles chuckles.

 

She listens closely to Lydia again, the smile on her face growing bigger with each passing second. He loves how much his sister loves Lydia. And he loves how much Lydia loves his sister.

 

"Okay!" She finally yells and Stiles sees Scott wince in the rearview mirror. 

 

"Not so loud, Skyebear," Scott pleads with her.

 

"I'll see you in a little while, Lydia," Skye says just as loud before handing the phone back to Stiles.

 

"What have you done?" Stiles asks as he moves the phone to his ear.

 

"Don't go accusing me of doing things," Lydia says innocently. "You know I'm not that smart."

 

"Uh-huh, yes, and I'm secretly a girl," Stiles mutters, rolling his eyes.

 

"That makes me a lesbian then," Lydia states matter-of-factly. "Kira will be happy to know. And stop rolling your eyes at me."

 

"Okay, first of all, that thing you do where you know what I'm doing with my face without actually seeing my face is actually really scary," he says in one breath, and Skye giggles next to him as she toys with the stuffed wolf Lydia gave her all those years before. "Second, you know you've lost all chances you've ever had with Kira. She's been all over Caitlin's area since they met at that party last month."

 

"Ew Stiles," Lydia shivers on the other end of the line. "Could you maybe not talk about Caitlin's area or the fact that Kira's all over it in front of your sister?"

 

"She knows Caitlin's into girls," Stiles says matter-of-factly.

 

"Yes but neither she - nor I for that matter - need to know who's up in her area."

 

"Yeah, okay," Stiles mumbles trying to get back on track. "How's it going on the baby front?"

 

"Melissa's not fully dilated yet, but she's almost there so it shouldn't be much longer. And your dad's panicking is no worse than the last time."

 

"Alright," Stiles says, and he feels Skye pull something out of his pocket. He looks down to find the small dark velvet box in her hand.

 

"What's that?" Skye asks, turning the box over in her hands to examine it. 

 

"Okay, well, we're almost there, so hang tight til we get there," he says into his phone, his eyes wide as he watches Skye examine the box.

 

"Alright. I'll see you, soon. Love you."

 

"Love you, too," he replies before shutting the phone and quickly taking the box from Skye's prying hands. "Skye, I told you not to pick people's pockets," Stiles says, turning his attention to his sister.

 

"I didn't pick it, I promise," she replies hurriedly, a worried look creeping up her face. "It was almost out of your pocket like it was falling. I saved it."

 

"Thank you, then," Stiles says as he chuckles lightly.

 

"What is it?" Skye asks, her curiosity getting the better of her again.

 

Stiles hesitates for a second, but then he opens the box to show his sister the ring, a simple gold band with a round-shaped diamond at the center, surrounded by two tiny rubies on each side. The diamond is encased in intricate old detailing, the same color as the gold band.

 

"It's a gift for a very special friend," Stiles answers simply, unable to lie to his sister, but also worried about all the questions the entire truth might entail.

 

"It's so pretty," Skye marvels as she looks at the ring, her eyes alight with wonder.

 

"I'm glad you think so," Stiles says honestly, happy to have his sister's blessing. 

 

"Your friend must be very special," Skye states, sounding much older than she really is, and Stiles can't help but laugh at the truth her words carry.

 

"She is," he mutters under his breath, his heart skipping a beat when he thinks of Lydia. "Hey Skyebear, can you do something for me?" He watches her nod wholeheartedly at him. "Can you keep this safe with you until the end of the day?" He says, closing the box and handing it to his sister. "But you can't tell anybody about this. It has to be our little secret."

 

"Okay," Skye whispers, carefully taking the box out of his hands and pulling her bag of her back to hide the box in it. "I promise," she says, holding out her pinkie for him.

 

Stiles smiles before holding her pinkie with his. He presses a kiss to her hair before looking up to find himself in the hospital parking. He can already see Lydia standing near the main doors, and his heart skips another beat. She looks tired, her clothes rumpled and her strawberry blonde hair messily done, and he still doesn't think anyone could ever look as beautiful as her. 

 

He jumps out of the car before helping Skye get out, and she's barely on the ground before she sprints across the car park and towards Lydia who greets her with open arms.

 

"Dude, you just gave Lydia's engagement ring to a 4-year-old," Scott says as he moves to walk next to him, handing him his coffee cup.

 

"She keeps that backpack no farther than two feet from her at all times," Stiles states simply. "There's no one I trust more than her to keep it safe."

 

He catches Lydia's gaze and the smile she sends him does things to him. This is the woman he wants to be with forever. Not that he ever thought otherwise, but it boggles him how he feels exactly the same after all these years. No, actually, not the same, because somehow, he manages to fall more in love with her every day that passes.

 

* * *

 

She feels her heart grow ten times when she spots Stiles' Jeep.

 

She sees Scott park the car, and Stiles get out before helping his sister out. Her feet have barely touched the ground before she sprints her way, and Lydia doesn't hesitate for a second, kneeling and opening her arms for Skye. The little girl hugs her with all her might, like she hasn't seen her in a really long time - she saw her just the day before -, and Lydia keeps her arms locked tight around Skye before she lifts her off the ground. 

 

"Wow, you're getting heavy," Lydia mumbles when she feels herself almost lose her balance, and Skye pulls away to look at her with a big smile on her face. "What?"

 

"That's what Stiles said," Skye exclaims giddily.

 

"Oh, yeah?" Lydia teases, tickling Skye and causing her laughter to fill the open car park.

 

Lydia stops when she catches Stiles looking at her, and she sends him the biggest smile she can muster. She's missed him. Like legit, wish-you-were-here, I-need-you-all-the-time missed him. She'll blame it on the fact that they haven't spent a night apart since they moved in together three months ago. 

 

Stiles had already gotten his degree in History from Stanford - with a minor in Gender Studies - when he showed up on Lydia's doorstep a week after his graduation and announced that he was sick of them being apart and he was going to look for a job in Boston. His impressive GPA scored him an interview with one of the area's most famed history professors, and he's been working as his assistant ever since. 

 

Of course, by the time he showed up on her doorstep, Lydia'd already earned her degrees in both Molecular Biology and Applied Mathematics. She's working on earning her PhD for both, starting with Molecular Bio, and she's also got the whole Languages minor going to brush up on her eight languages. Stiles has also found them an awesome genetics program to join where no one makes fun of him for pretending to be Professor X and not one person bats an eye whenever Lydia tells him she might have found something that could help them trace the lineage of werewolves.

 

So they moved in together and nothing changed except that the hole in Lydia's heart grew a little smaller and her world became a little brighter. 

 

Bottom line is they haven't spent the night together in two days and Lydia misses her boyfriend. So when Scott comes and plants a kiss to her cheek before pulling Skye out of her arms and walking inside the hospital ahead of them, Lydia doesn't object. And when Stiles puts his coffee cup on a nearby bench and steps closer to her, wrapping his arms around her waist before pulling her to him and burying his head in her shoulder, she doesn't resist. And when he pulls away slightly to steal a kiss, she returns it happily.

 

"Hi," he whispers, pulling back to smile at her.

 

"Hi," she returns his greeting, the smile nearly breaking her face in half.

 

"I thought you wanted to kill me," he teases, fingers tracing shapes on her lower back, and she can't help the shiver that runs through her body at the sensation.

 

"Oh I do," she confirms, a serious look crossing her features. "But I also kinda missed you," she continues, her voice softening as she quirks her head to the side, fiddling with the hairs on the back of his neck.

 

"Yeah?" He asks, and she wants to laugh because if he still doesn't know how much she needs him after all these years, then they've got a really big problem.

 

"Yeah," she says, nodding her head and pulling herself slowly closer, until their lips meet again in a slow kiss. 

 

It still amazes her after all this time how something as simple as kissing Stiles can make her feel so many things. How it can make her feel alive and protected and excited and afraid and wanted and small and loved all the same time. How it can make her heart beat so fast that she worries it won't ever slow back to a human rhythm. How his lips fit so well with hers, and how she still feels like she's being properly kissed for the first time whenever she feels him pull her lower lip between his teeth, or slide his tongue across her lips until she can't help but open her mouth wider to let him in, or suck on her lower lip like it's the best thing he'll ever taste.

 

She hears herself moan when his fingers tease the skin on her waist where her shirt has lifted, and she pulls herself away abruptly.

 

"No, no no, Stiles, no- we can't, not here. Not when Melissa's in labor," she mumbles, leaning into his touch when he brushes a stray hair off her cheek, resting her hands on his chest.

 

He feels strong and firm under her fingers. He doesn't say anything, smiling instead and leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead before pulling away. He doesn't completely let go, though, keeping one arm around her as they make their way into the hospital. 

 

"This is mine now," she states as she picks up Stiles' coffee from the bench on their way in. His smile is the only sign he hears her.

 

"Exactly how hungover are you?" he asks as they wait for the elevator.

 

"Beethoven's-symphony-number-nine-playing-backwards-on-drums hungover."

 

"Ouch," Stiles mutters as they make their way into the elevator before Lydia presses the button to their floor.

 

"Yep," she agrees. "I think I even got a little high at one point," she continues, squinting at the memory.

 

"Two puffs barely constitute as getting high," Stiles says, rolling his eyes.

 

"You were there?" Lydia asks, her eyes bulging out of their sockets.

 

"We snuck out to the back alley of the Jungle to make out and we found Parrish getting high there," Stiles explains.

 

"Parrish? Deputy Parrish? Getting high?"

 

"Yep," Stiles confirms. "And you told him you'd tell on him if he didn't share."

 

"I threatened a deputy for some weed?" Lydia asks incredulously. She's pretty sure her eyebrows have disappeared in her hairline, her eyes wide in shock. "The last time I got high was when Jackson left for London."

 

"Yeah, I know," Stiles remembers. "Scott's brilliant idea to help you forget was to bake brownies to get you baked." 

 

"Wait, Parrish's gay?" Lydia asks suddenly.

 

"He's a little gay," Stiles says as they get out of the elevator.

 

"Didn't he ask Malia out that one time she was at the station?"

 

"So?"

 

"Nothing, I mean whatever floats his boat. The whole thing just feels like a bad sitcom."

 

"Yeah well, last night did feel like a bad sitcom," Stiles mutters as they make their way towards the waiting room. "Anyway, how far along is she?" 

 

"Eight centimeters," Lydia says as they approach the rest of their group, a look of bewilderment still etched on her face.

 

"Nine actually," Cora corrects before leaning in to give Stiles a hug.

 

"I meant Melissa, not you," Stiles teases pointing at Cora's tiny protruding bump and Lydia rolls her eyes with a smile on her face.

 

"Asshole," Cora mutters under her breath but she's barely able to hide her amused smirk. "I'm serious, though. Your dad just ran out freaking out about how she's almost there."

 

"Lydia come sit next to me!" Lydia hears Skye say and she looks at her to see her perched on Allison's lap.

 

She does as she's told, pulling Skye into her own lap when she's seated.

 

"I'm going to have a little baby brother soon," Skye announces once she's settled.

 

"I thought they were keeping the baby's gender a surprise," Lydia asks Stiles when he takes a seat next to her. 

 

"They are," he confirms, turning to look at Skye with a raised eyebrow. "Skyebear, who told you it's gonna be a boy?" 

 

"The baby told me," Skye answers simply, fiddling with the stuffed wolf in her lap. 

 

"The baby told you?" Scott asks, both he and Allison turning to look at his sister.

 

"I asked him when I was with mommy last week," she explains like it's so obvious, continuing to play with the stuffed animal. "I told him to kick once if he was a girl and twice if he was a boy. He kicked twice."

 

"Makes sense," Stiles shrugs.

 

Lydia can't help but hold Skye closer to her. She wraps her arms tighter around the little girl in her lap, pressing a kiss to her hair. She turns to look at Stiles only to find him looking at them with a smile on his face.

 

To think that she nearly lost him so many times. They still wake up every day wondering if today's gonna be the day Deucalion's bite takes effect on him. But it never does. And Lydia's never been more thankful for anything, so she stopped asking how they got so lucky a long time ago. She's learned that as long as her pack's okay, she doesn't need to question anything.

 

So when he reaches for her hand, she doesn't hesitate before linking her fingers with his.

 

It all happens so fast after that. A nurse comes out to tell them the baby's on his way, and not twenty minutes later, the sheriff comes out to tell them they have a little brother. Stiles is by his father's side before Lydia has time to say anything, and she can't help but smile when Stiles pulls his father in for a hug. Skye runs to wiggle her way between them and they can't seem to stop laughing at her antics before the sheriff picks her up and starts kissing her. Scott joins them soon after, and then everyone follows to congratulate them.

 

Scott, Stiles and Skye get to go in a few minutes before the rest of them, until one of Melissa's nurses - friends - decides to throw all caution to the wind and let the rest of the pack inside the room. Lydia rushes to Melissa's side as soon as she's there.

 

"I'm fine," Melissa whispers when Lydia presses a kiss to her hair, an answer to the unspoken question.

 

Lydia never knew how much she craved having a mother who actually spoke to her beyond telling her to lose weight or make sure her grades stayed up, until she met Melissa McCall. She'll never act like an ungrateful child and deny the fact that she had a good childhood and financial security, but sometimes she wishes her parents made her feel more like their daughter and less like their responsibility. It's like they got so busy trying to ensure that she had everything she physically needed that they forgot she had emotional needs too. Emotional needs that were left unanswered until she met Melissa and Sheriff Stilinski. They have been more her parents the past six years than any blood relatives could ever be, and for that she'll be forever grateful.

 

She's pulled out of her thoughts when she feels Melissa squeeze her hand, a tired but peaceful look on her face. She slowly turns to look at the little bundle in Melissa's arms, and she can't help but gasp when she feels her heart somehow stretch wider, the little boy in the woman's arms marching right into it and settling into the newly acquired space. 

 

It's sort of ridiculous to compare her heart to a piece of real estate, but it does feel like that sometimes, like a raw piece of land where people seem to randomly rent space, only to never leave.

 

The baby is barely an hour old, so it would be ridiculous to say he looks like Stiles, but Lydia doesn't miss the little mole right by his lower lip. He looks so peaceful in his mother's arms, and Lydia's taken by surprise when Melissa moves the baby quietly away from her chest and towards Lydia.  

 

"Melissa, no-" she starts to object.

 

"Be quiet and hold your brother," Melissa orders softly and Lydia feels her eyes well up, but she manages to contain the tears.

 

Melissa places the baby gently in Lydia's arms, and he whimpers lightly before snuggling into Lydia's chest. She can barely speak she's so emotional, but she feels Stiles come up to stand beside her, one arm around her shoulder, the other protectively on his baby brother's head.

 

She gets the urge to cry again when she feels Stiles press a kiss to her temple, an image of them holding a baby of their own somehow clearer than the usual. 

 

Melissa reaches her hand towards Stiles and squeezes his own with a smile on her face before pulling away.

 

"Have you decided what to name him yet?" Allison asks, stepping closer to Lydia and smiling at the baby in her arms.

 

"Oh god," Stiles mutters, straightening up and looking at Melissa. "Please, don't let my dad choose his name, or he's gonna end up called Bartholomew and then he's gonna have to call himself Biles and Biles is not an attractive name!"

 

"Calm down Stiles, before you give yourself an aneurism," Cora mutters and Isaac snorts next to her.

 

"Um, we were actually thinking Avery," Melissa announces softly, trying to hide her smile.

 

"Avery," Stiles repeats after her, a smile forming on his face, before he turns to look at his little brother again. "Avery," he repeats, as if testing the name.

 

"Yes and I got to choose his middle name," Skye says excitedly, and the Sheriff kisses her before placing her on the bed next to her mother.

 

"Oh yeah?" Cora asks. "What is it then?"

 

"Jasper," Skye says, snuggling into her mother's side and Melissa smiles proudly at her daughter. 

 

"Like that boy you like," Allison teases and Skye nods happily.

 

"What? No- who- what boy that she likes? Scott stutters, perking up with a frown on his face.

 

"Yeah, my sister's too young to date," Stiles agrees and Lydia snorts at their seriousness. 

 

"Relax boys," Cora interferes. "I've already handled this," she announces and everybody turns to look at her with a questioning look. "Skye, what do we do when a boy is bothering us?" She asks the little girl.

 

"We kick him in his special place," Skye answers proudly

 

There's a collective snort heard around the room and the sheriff's eyes seem to have gone out of their sockets.

 

"Oh my god," Stiles mutters, rolling his eyes. "You've turned my sister into you."

 

"And you should be proud," Cora says, laughing.

 

"Yes, you should," Skye agrees and Lydia lets out a surprised chuckle.

 

They're ushered out of the room after a while because Melissa might be their pack mom, but she's their pack mom who just gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, so she understandably needs her rest.

 

Lydia's sitting in the waiting room with Skye, waiting for Scott and Stiles to finish talking to the sheriff when she sees it. Skye's riffling through her backpack, looking for something in there, when she pulls out a small dark purple velvet box, breathing a sigh of relief when she finds it. Lydia's eyes widen, trying to make sense of what she's seeing.

 

"Skye, what's this?" She asks, pointing at the box in her hand.

 

"I'm not supposed to say," Skye says, looking guiltily at Lydia. "Stiles told me to keep in a secret," she explains. "But he likes you a lot so I think I'm allowed to show you," she continues after a second, opening the box and handing it to Lydia. "He said it's for a very special friend."

 

She takes the box from the little girl's hand, and Lydia feels her heart actually stop. In it sits the most beautiful ring, an elegant mix of gold and diamond and rubies. And unless Stiles has another very special friend that he's not telling her about, then this ring is hers.

 

She takes a deep breath, trying to keep from getting emotional. She spots Stiles and Scott at the end of the hallway, but they're too busy talking to notice them.

 

She closes the box and hides it in her fist.

 

"Hey Skye, can I keep this for a few minutes?" Lydia asks gently. "I'll give it back when we're in the car."

 

"But what if Stiles gets mad?" Skye whispers, and she looks so worried Lydia almost gives her the ring back.

 

"He won't," she reassures instead, running her fingers through Skye's hair. "I won't let him."

 

"Okay," Skye concedes. "But don't lose it."

 

"I won't," Lydia promises quietly just as Stiles and Scott reach them.

 

"Are you guys ready?" Scott asks.

 

"Scotty why can't we stay with mommy too?" Skye asks, reaching her tired little arms towards Scott who pulls her up and holds her to him.

 

"Because mommy and the baby need to rest and they can't rest if we're here," Scott explains, leading the way for them. Lydia smiles at Stiles when he wraps an arm around her and starts leading her out. "But you get to spend the night with me and Stiles and Lydia and Allison."

 

"Can Cora and Isaac and Derek come too?"

 

"They're right outside waiting for us," Scott reassures Skye and she hugs him tighter and rests her head on his shoulder.

 

They've just walked outside the hospital and into the parking lot when Lydia stops in her tracks. She doesn't plan to do, doesn't think about. She just stops walking. Stiles stops a few feet ahead of her and turns to look at her. Skye and Scott are looking at her just a few feet behind him.

 

"Lydia?" Stiles asks, a worried look on his face.

 

"Will you marry me?"

 

* * *

 

He feels his heart stop for _one, two, three_ seconds before it kickstarts back into life. Did he hear her right? Did she just _propose_ to him?

 

"Wh- What?" He stutters, turning back to look at Scott, only to find him standing there with Skye in his arms, eyes wide as saucers, the hint of a smile on his face.

 

"Oh go- shit," Lydia mumbles, a frustrated air to her. "God," she continues, holding her hand to her forehead. "I just ruined this for you."

 

"How- How do you," he mutters, trying to think back to a time where he might've let his plans slip. "How do you know?"

 

Lydia doesn't say anything, holding up a tiny purple velvet box in her hand instead. _Of course._

 

"Don't be mad at her," Lydia says as she starts to walk towards him. "I made her show me."

 

"I'm not mad at her," Stiles argues, shaking his head. Of course he's not mad at her. He can never be mad at Skye. "I'm just- this is not how I wanted it to happen."

 

"How did you want it to happen then?" Lydia asks, stopping when she's close enough that he can see the freckles on her nose.

 

"Well for starters, I'm meant to be the one who pops the question," he teases, a smile lighting his face.

 

"Is that so," Lydia asks unable to contain her chuckle.

 

"Yep," he confirms, reaching out to take her hand. "

 

"And?"

 

"I was gonna take you to School."

 

"School?" She asks, a surprised look on her face.

 

"It's where we met," he explains.

 

"But I was horrible to you when we were in school," Lydia argues.

 

"No you weren't."

 

She doesn't say anything, just looks at him with a raised eyebrow, a no bullshit look on her face.

 

"Okay, you were a little horrible to me when we were in school," he admits and it earns him a laugh from her. "But my selective memory dictates that I only remember the good times."

 

"The good times," she echoes, nodding with a skeptical look on her face. "Like?"

 

"The first time you went to formal with me."

 

"Then blew you off to go find Jackson," she counters and Stiles feels frustration make its way to the surface.

 

"Fine then," he continues with a sigh. "The first time you cheered at a Lacrosse game for me."

 

"Then went to cry on your shoulder because of Jackson."

 

"Jesus, Lyds, are you trying to get me to not propose to you?" He asks, irritation getting the best of him, but Lydia doesn't seem remotely affected by his attitude.

 

"Will it ever work?"

 

"No," he admits, reaching out for the box she's still holding.

 

"So, you were gonna take me to school, and?" She continues, getting the conversation back on track.

 

"I don't know, just ask you?"

 

"Just ask me?" She repeat, an incredulous look on her face. "Wow, please don't put so much effort into it!"

 

"What did you want me to do?" Stiles asks, flailing a little. "I figured you'd like something simple!"

 

"I do like something simple," Lydia confirms, "but at least, like, make a small speech or something."

 

"A speech?"

 

"Yes, a speech!"

 

"What, like tell you how I've loved you since before I can even remember?" He nearly shouts, taking a second to breathe before jumping into words again. "Literally, okay, because I lost my memory and I know I've loved you since before that," he continues. "Lydia," he says, breathing deeply and holding her gaze. "Lyds, I don't know how I got so lucky. I really don't. I woke up one day with no recollection of anything, and this beautiful, smart, amazing girl was waiting for me by my bedside. And I was horrible to her. I pushed her away and then gave her hope only to push her away again. But she wouldn't let me push her away. You didn't let me push you away, Lyds. You didn't give up on me. And for some crazy reason, you chose me, out of all of the guys who were literally dying to be with you. You picked me. And you're still with me now, and I can't imagine ever not wanting to be with you. And I don't know if I say it enough, but I love you. And I don't know how I got so lucky," he repeats, and he chokes a little on his words. He loves her so much and she's just so beautiful.

 

For a minute or so, she doesn't say anything. She just stands there, staring at him, her breathing shallow, her eyes glistening in the dark, the streetlights reflecting in them.

 

"That's a pretty good speech," she finally whispers, a small smile gracing her lips, and Stiles feels himself let out a breath he doesn't know he's holding.

 

He stands there for a second, wondering whether or not to get down on that one knee. It's too cliché, he knows, but this whole proposal is anything but cliché, so he might as well give her the down-on-one-knee bit.

 

"I was, um," he hesitates before going down on one knee, reaching one hand into his pant pocket. "I was gonna give you this first," he mumbles, pulling out a thin red string tied into a circle. "I don't know if you remember," he continues, a little bit unsure, "but that day we were in my room-"

 

"I was tying a red string around my finger," she interrupts, picking up where he left off. "It's like the tale of the lovers tied by the red string."

 

"Right," Stiles says, laughing a little. "I forget that you're the smartest person alive sometimes. Why did I ever doubt that you'd get the reference," he questions himself and Lydia laughs along with him, a tear making its way down her cheek. "Lydia Martin," Stiles asks regaining his composure and looking up at her. "Will you marry me?"

 

She doesn't say anything for a while, the smile on her face the only sign that she's still alive. But then she starts nodding frantically, and she manages to let out a small "yes" and it's all the invitation Stiles needs. He slips the red string onto her finger and then the ring, before jumping on onto his feet and moving to kiss her. Her lips taste salty from the tears and she's sniffling a little and Stiles has never felt so happy.

 

"It's about damn time!" He hears someone yell in the background and they both turn around to find that Cora, Isaac, Allison and Derek have joined Scott and Skye, and they're all wearing big smiles on their faces.

 

Stiles looks at them for a second longer, before turning his gaze back Lydia. She's looking at him like he's the most important thing in the world, and he realizes that to her, he is. She doesn't say anything, leaning in to kiss him one more time, before she links her fingers with his and guides him back to their pack.

 

 


End file.
